


Plot Dump For The Thing (Bonus Content for AWITS and ASINY)

by honeyvioletmoon



Series: Ice Dog and the Loneliest Yeti [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Multi, a winter in the sun continues, summer in new york continues, these are basically just bonus features hahahaha, this film is enhanced with disney fastplay, yea idk what this is either enjoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:04:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20247805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyvioletmoon/pseuds/honeyvioletmoon
Summary: The Plot Dump is basically behind the scenes for this fic as well as anything I've taken out or changed but still wanted to include :)





	1. Extra Content

**Author's Note:**

> TABLE OF CONTENTS:
> 
> \- Extras
> 
> \- Deleted Scenes
> 
> \- Commentary

_Why is this series titled "Ice Dog and the Loneliest Yeti?"_

While writing this fic, it went through a lot of title changes. We had one of those original AO3 super long and dramatic titles for a while, I think it was like "After eveything we've gone through, no matter what, I will find my way back to you..." something like that. Then for a while it was HISTORY TERM PAPER because I would pretend to be doing homework to write it, or simply "The Thing" as we referred to it in public. Then we eventually decided on A Winter in the Sun as the title, based upon the song. But on our google doc, the title was Ice Dog and the Loneliest Yeti. So, during the creation of this fic, my co-author bought one of those cheap juice pops from our Student Store and the Brand was ice dog, and it said keep in freezer when not in use or something on the package and she said hey this is bucky and then we laughed until we cried (rip). Additionally, one time I went over to her house to play sims and we made all the characters of CATWS. And while playing with Natasha we got a notification that Steve Rogers wanted to write a book titled "The Loneliest Yeti." She was like, damn son, is it an autobiography? And then again, laughed until we cried. 

_How long did AWITS take to complete? _

We started the fic in TWENTY FOURTEEN which is INSANE. As I write this, we are mere months away from 2020. Wild. 

_What was the inspiration behind A Summer in New York? _

Shortly after the inception of Stepan, my co-author's OC, and right around the time Cinderella 2015 came out (and I fell in love with Lily James), I had a dream one night. I was super into Agent Carter because it was like season one or two, and I'd just read a found baby au for Cartinelli. In my dream, Peggy had a baby and she and Angie ended up raising her together. Her name was Daniella because Angie picked the name and she looked like Cinderella in 50s clothing because the entire movie all I could think about was how much Lily really looked like Hay's daughter but also resembled Chris. Anyways, as Cap's kid she was subject to tons of tests by SHIELD scientists her entire life and she lived in quiet seclusion until Stepan was discovered. Somehow she found out about him and originally they were going to use Stepan to restart the Super Soldier program so she showed up IMMEDIATELY to put a stop to that and protect her baby brother. Steve was obvi shocked and kinda confused as to why he had a kid he never knew about who was technically older than him. Anyways it changed a lot from my original dream but Dani was born and thus began the Au within an Au!

***

**PLOT DUMP STUFF/IDEAS WE HAVENT WORKED INTO THE THING YET!!!!!1111!!!!1!11!! (please note on our google doc this title was in COMIC SANS)**

_If I add our commentary, "Lils" is my coauthor, "Hun" is me. ;)_

Jesus Christ, I need stucky fluff. asdkfjlkjwelkjflkjldgjaslkdjasdfghkl;aksldkfjhlelkjgqhweklj

Bucky has vague memories of working on the docks. I WANT THERE TO BE A CHARACTER NAMED CONOR MACNAMARA!!!

IDEA: pre-serum, pre-war Bucky gets drunk off his ass with the guys he works on the docks with and they all sing Irish folk songs and sea shanties and it's all jolly and merry, and then Steve comes around looking for Bucky, and that's when Bucky realizes and he's like "ah, shit"

**Lils: you need to sleep now, but tomorrow, you’re going to write about steve & bucky’s floor, bucky meeting the avengers, bucky talking to natasha on the rooftop garden about other black widows (ie how he helped train them, how some of them are dead, others kept in cryo for a little bit before having their memories overwritten with false memories and being placed into modern society, and also Yelena Belova, of course)**

  
<strike> When Bucky starts remembering he starts gettting pissed at HYDRA for what they took away from him, and he wants to go hunting down the remaining members. _ Bucky _ becomes the villain. No longer the WS, just a really angry victim. </strike>

there should be a character named Mary Catherine O’Connell, becauses Ireland is a wonderful country

BUCKY SEEING CAP MERCHANDISE IN STORE AND BEING LIKE **“I NEED THAT” **AND NATASHA’S WALKING WITH HIM AND SHE’S LIKE ?????? AND THEN HE’S JUST RUNNING OFF INTO THE STORE AND HE’S GRABBING THIS REALLY NICE QUALITY SOFT CAP HOODIE AND HE AS SOON AS HE’S PAID FOR IT HE JUST PUTS IT ON AND NEVER TAKES IT OFF AND THEN THEY GET BACK TO THE TOWER AND HE SEES STEVE AND HE GETS SUPER EMBARRASSED AND STEVE’S LIKE :3 :) <3

*looks offended* “I’m not useless, I’m Captain America!”

ON THAT SUBJECT: STEVE AND BUCKY TEXTING WITH JUST EMOTICONS BC THEY KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL THAT THEY DON’T EVEN NEED ANY MORE CONTEXT LIKE :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

bucky likes cream soda, this is v important

bucky as the shield between steve in the world, even on the battlefield. he shields him from the darkness, the bad deeds. he is the one who deals with torturing, extracting information, all to save steve from it.

Idea: Steve embraces the cold, because for him, the ice meant peace. Bucky fears it, because for him, the ice always meant much worse.

I don't think we have the original outline anymore, but in the original fic, Rebecca ended up contacting Bucky after she saw the Winter Soldier on the news. She'd met a Hawaiian man and married him and moved to Hawaii. And basically Bucky and Steve went to the Big Island and found out Rebecca had like 20 kids and 500 grandkids and one of them was a girl I think named after Bucky but I don't quite remember and I can't find what was written about that. 

steve and stepan’s joint english/russian lessons tho i’m gonna cry just imagine the montage:

“barton, you are not teaching my son pig latin! you’re going to confuse him!”

"Oh my god now he won't stop talking!" 

<a href="<https://www.amazon.com/Go-F-Sleep-Adam-Mansbach/dp/145584165X>" rel="nofollow">“GO THE F**CK TO SLEEP!”</a>

**Hun: is stepan eventually going to learn english?? theoretically, bucky speaks at least like four/five languages besides his native english and russian, and i doubt they taught him using rosetta stone and the c’est a toi unit videos, lolz. nah bruh, they programmed him to know that stuff, and they had stepan for like four years right? thats enough time ot at least give him a better capability of learning another language because that would benefit them, so theyd at least have started to give him means to learn new speech very quickly. so yea i feel theyd still try to teach him and stuff but he already speaks russian, whic is a complex language. but also i think he would have little trouble learning english and he would do it at a rate that was hella fast and more than a bit abnormal, but hey thats just me. **

  
  
**Lils: SO. yes, he eventually _will_ learn english! he can’t communicate with steve via awkward one word sentences plus grunts for his entire life, lol. And yeah, you’re right about kids picking up languages easily, and this is definitely going to factor in to his ability to learn english VERY quickly, along with his advanced brain cell functioning or whatever. And yeah, you’re right, HYDRA had him, but I feel like they would’ve been really hesitant to do anything with him bc he would’ve been such a valuable resource to them. like, they’d be really nervous to go in and mess with his brain until they were sure they could duplicate the process, and like to think that up until this point, stepan is the only one that’s survived. so YES, i’m saying there are a bunch of small baby stepan clones that are all dead in some HYDRA trashcan somewhere. ANYWAY, that’s the reason Stepan was able to get to the age of like 6. They were afraid to put him in cryo, but then they were like, “well, we have to put him in, he’s getting close to training age, and we can’t start with him until we’re sure he’s not a fluke.”**

*******

**Here's a blurb flashback:**

"I don't sleep so well at night  
Waiting up and shivering  
Heater's gone and money's tight  
In this little home that I'm living in

What is with you?  
I've never seen this side of you

We are all living  
Till we grow older  
You be the worker  
I'll be the soldier

I never hear those sounds that sing to me  
Cha ching, cha ching, cha ching-a-ling."

The next thing Bucky knows, he's lying on a cement sidewalk, a bustle of city life blazing around him. Cars honk their horns as they pass each other in the crowded streets, and swarms of people frolick the city. The sun shines hot in the sky, casting an orange glow on everything and everyone in the crowd. Ladies sniff and open parasols to block the stifling rays, or even more cluster together beneath shop awnings and shaded doorways, shading their faces with menus or small fans, and small children dressed in plainclothes and rags run in excitement towards trucks delivering large blocks of ice, hoping the workmen will chip off a few bits for them to suck on.

“Buck? Hey, Buck? You okay?” A kind voice inquires. A figure swims before Bucky’s eyes, and for a moment he could swear on his ma that boy was lit from behind with the sun like a halo crowning his tawny scruff. The shape comes into place, a hand stretching down to help him up. He takes it, fingers locked in a firm grip that yanks him to his feet, though the boy beside him stumbles a little, tripping over himself. Blue, smiling eyes come into focus set in a handsome and young face, lightly doused with a sheen of sweat. Bucky wipes his own forehead with the back of his hand, and doesn’t even blanch at the fact that both are flesh. He realizes the boy grinning back at him is Steve, all skinny 95 pounds of him. His collar is loose and the blue fabric of his shirt is coming untucked from his trousers. The toes of his shoes are scuffed but he skips alongside Bucky as they continue to walk down the sidewalk, passing girls who smile at him, arm in arm, and toss their heads full of thick curls and ringlets. Some preen and bat their lashes, while others sneak glances from behind shop windows or the edges of flyers held in their hands. Bucky doesn’t really see any of them, and is only focused on Steve.

“I’m fine… Must’ve been this heat, then. Made me faint, or somethin’, Stevie.” Bucky responds, voice higher than he remembers. He sees the concern behind Steve's easy smile and he rushes to quelch it. “Hey, I’m good, alright punk?” He repeats, looking Steve in the eyes before rushing forward to shove at him playfully. “Quit worrying about me, Rogers! You’re not my ma!” He teases, glad to see it brings back a natural grin to his friend's face. “Let’s sneak into a picture, it’s too hot to stay out here.” He suggests, and Steve agrees so the two of them head towards the cinema.

Running through the lobby and ducking beneath the confections counter draped with imitation velvet cloth, they manage to crawl past the _maitre d’ _and concierge again. The boy taking tickets at the front is gazing listlessly at the posters of Shirley Temple and Charlie Chaplin in _Poor Little Rich Girl _and _Modern Times _, and so does not pick up on their entrance through dark blue curtains into theater two, which at present is about to begin screening _Libeled Lady _with Jean Harlow. It’s a comedy of sorts, Steve has heard, and they settle in the back to view it, free of charge. They’re broke, but at least they still have some kind of fun together.

Not shortly after the second half of the movie begins, a late arrival is helped by a boy in a red uniform with a flashlight to her seat, and the Brooklyn boys are discovered, lounging back in cush spots that aren’t theirs by proof of purchase. The boy furrows an angry brow at them, scowling. The manager is waved over from the front, and the incident is brought to his attention. He knows these two, and cocks an annoyed but accepting hip at them as he stares them down in a way that says,_ “You do this so often, I’m used to it-but that doesn’t mean I like it!” _Of course, the two are hefted up by their collars and thrown none too kindly form the esteemed establishment for film-viewing pleasure, if you can pay. A guard dumps them against the rust-colored brick wall of a back alley, slamming the heavy door shut behind him. They will not be getting back in today. Dusting themselves off, Bucky spits in his direction.

“Come on!” Steve cries in protest, though the man is long gone by now and no one cares to hear him. He throws his hands up in the air in agitation. “You could’ve at least let us finish with our picture!” Bucky scoffs a hushed laugh at his impertinence. From behind them, the scuffle of feet can be heard as a gang of about four big boys approaches.

“So,” the toughest looking one sneers at them. He has a fat upper lip and a dusting of harsh freckles. He looks dirty, and probably is. His left hand sports an expensive looking pair of brass knuckles Bucky knows for a fact he had to have stolen, and most likely is only wearing for sport, for show. Clearly, judging by the way the other boys stare at him with knowing eyes and crack their knuckles, pounding their fists into their palms, he is the leader. “You pansies get throw outta there for seeing the reruns of _Snow White _?” His cohorts bark cruel, brutish laughs at the two of them.

_Don’t say anything stupid, Stevie. _Bucky thinks. “No! We were seein’ _Libeled Lady _with Spencer Tracy! And no one’s gonna tell us what we can and can’t see, you stinkin’ bruno!” Steve shoots back. Bucky wants to smack himself in the face. _He said something stupid. _Barnes tenses, prepared either to flee or stand his ground and fight. He can guess which option Steve is going to choose, and prepares for bruised knuckles and a split lip, maybe another gash with stitches above his left eyebrow. At least while he had that, he looking sort of like a dashing thug. They lunge at Steve, shoving him down as he kicks out, just happening to get lucky and clip the third joe’s shin. He grunts out in pain and comes back with more force, aiming for Steve’s skull with his fists. They pummel him as Bucky moves to help, dodging the leader. He grabs Buck by his ankle and yanks it down, and the boy falls onto the street, wind knocked out of his heaving lungs. He flips back up and advances on Steve’s aggressive attackers, beating them back with hard fists. Brass knuckles come flying towards his right jaw, but he picks up a plank of wood from a broken crate and cracks it down on the bone. The wrist audibly snaps and the hand goes limp, metal weaponry clattering to the floor. Leader thug howls in pain and his goons try to land in a few more blows before they leave Steve in the dust at their feet. He is wrecked, clothes torn and mussed, stained with mud or blood or both. His skin is sporting more black and blue hues than pale cream colors, a continual green tinge to his cheeks. He is at this point too sad and pathetic to end. Bucky had managed to defend them quite well with Steve’s passionate help, and fares much better, though still banged up by these guys looking to start a fight. The leader, a boy Bucky now thinks he recognizes as Richie Janikowski from Queens, bats a hand at them like they aren’t worth his time.

“Eh, you two are just lucky, ‘suppose. This runt here wouldn’t be nothing without you, Jimmy.” He says to James. “Correction, ‘scuse me, he’d be _dead _. Stupid puny troublemaker.” He spits in Steve direction, before turning to go, beckoning his boys with the good hand before returning it to his chest to cradle his broken wrist.

The second boy from the mix looks back as they exit the alley, eyes cold and dark as he shoots them glares.

“Yea, and we all know Rogers here only hangs around you for protection, Barnes. You’re just some kid with good looks that hangs around other pretty men.” He seethes at them, and another member of their group coughs into his fist very indiscreetly, muttering, “queer” under his breath. “If he didn’t need you, he’d be gone like that,” he continues with a snap of his grimy digits. “But lord knows what _you _stick with him for.” He finishes, pretending to ponder it as though it is a taxing puzzle, though his sarcastic tone hints at his lude assumptions. The others all laugh, mumbling their agreement as they stalk away. Bucky hefts Steve up, praying he was too out of it to hear that.

“Don’t lissen ta dem, Buck.” Steve slurs, head swimming. Though his feet fail him, he insists on walking by himself home. Bucky keeps his hands at ready, standing by to catch the smaller boy when he falls over himself. _Shit, he heard. _“They’re just...jerks, the whole lot of ‘em.” 

“Steve, we’re all idiots. Let’s agree on that and head home. I feel like I’ve been put through the gears on that conveyer belt like Chaplin. Soon _I’ll _be the one having a nervous breakdown all thanks to you!” He huffs out, an edge to his tone, though Steve knows he isn’t truly upset. Eventually, they reach his home and he settles Steve on the couch with some ice and bandages, as well as the last dregs of gin, since he has no other antiseptic. They make quick work of the process of nursing themselves back to health, tending to any bumps, bruises, and open wounds. Still, the silence lasts an eternity and Bucky feels as though the whole ordeal, drags on forever. Steve hasn’t said one word to him since his dismissal of the boy’s taunts in that back alley, and as they continued their task he was sobered more and more, brain reaching higher levels of clarity. If he could not before comprehend their earlier implications, he sure as hell can now and chooses to say nothing on the subject. Bucky takes his stoic lack of input as a sign that he is trying to reject this image of Bucky, ignoring it in favor of one that does not disgust and appall him. Barnes just wants this over and done with so he can crawl off to bed.

“Hey, uh, hey pal,” He ekes out awkwardly, feeling the tense break of the quiet between them as he clears his throat and tries to speak. “You doing alright, there?”

Steve only hums in agreement, answering with a nod of his head. His hair bobs as he tilts his chin down, peering at the white gauze he tries to tie onto his split knuckles, tongue poking out from between his teeth in mute concentration. Bucky, having finished up and now reassuring himself that Steve hasn’t hurt himself too badly, creeps off to his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. He collapses on the mattress with a weary sigh, tears he didn’t know he had been repressing pricking incessantly at the corners of his eyes the moment his face is buried into a thin pillow. The last bits of him shatter inside as he realizes that when he wakes up, Steve might not be there waiting for him on the couch. He might never come back now, not after what he just heard. If those boys set him on the track that he only stays out of self-interest, his pesky sense of pride could cause him to walk out on his best friend forever, refusing to accept the help offered to his skinny ass once in a while. Even worse is the notion that when Bucky arises from the sleep he doesn’t want to fall into, but is being lulled away to by the shutting of his warming eyelids as he thinks, Steve will be there waiting for him still, words in his mouth spewing accusations out into the dark, and awaiting answers that die before they leave Bucky’s tongue. Steve will be there because they were right, and he needs Bucky. Not because he enjoys his company, but because he truly needs that extra fist, that shield, that protection Barnes offers to him, even if he refuses to admit it. All this time, his brotherly bond with Steve could have been nothing more than the scrap furthering his own agenda. All he wants is a shield to protect him, and Bucky can’t even do that.

When Bucky is stirred in his sleep by this flashback of fearing rejection, failure, misery, the words and thoughts of the past running parallel to the present, he is still pressing his face into the pillow, murmuring to the ears of said man closeby, “_ Steve, Steve… I hope it’s still the same.”_

***

_ Bucky'd heard plenty of stories about the fairiefolk from his relatives from the old country by the time he was 7. On his da's side, they called them the Aos Sí. To his ma's family, they were the Zâne. Bucky didn't really care what they were called either way. It wasn't important. Either way, he knew what they were, and that was how he knew when he met Sarah Rogers for the first time that she was something else. Something not of this world. Bucky'd never seen anything so beautiful, save for Steve himself. Her hair was paler than Steve's, long and wispy and silvery blonde. Often, she had it piled into a messy updo, but Bucky thought she was most pretty when she left it down and let it wave in the gentle wind. Her eyes were the color of sea glass, and they often turned stormy when she was upset, just like Steve’s. She was small and thin, as frail as her son, enough that Bucky knew neither of them belonged in this world. Either way, just as Steve did, what Sarah lacked in stature, she made up for in spirit. Her melodic Irish brogue was incongruously strong and Bucky had the vague recollection that she sang to them in it often. _

_ Of course, neither Bucky nor Steve’d ever met Steve’s pa. All they knew was what Sarah had told them on the night’s that Bucky’d stayed over when they were little. Sarah didn’t like to talk about Joseph Rogers, but Bucky knew he must’ve been a damn good man, to get something as Sarah to fall in love with him. To persuade her to stay in the human world with him would’ve been a true feat, Bucky thought. Sometimes, he’d half-wonder why Sarah stayed, even after Joseph died. The answer was obvious though: Steve. Bucky wasn’t dumb. He knew that Steve belonged in that world as little as he belonged in this one. Sarah’s body’s objection to this world, however, eventually caught up with her. She was always too good for the human world. Bucky was sure it was only a matter of time before Steve followed. _

_ Although his own mother wasn’t quite as otherworldly as Steve’s, she was just as magical. Mirela Barnes was not Irish, unlike most of the people in their Brooklyn neighborhood. She made quite sure that each of her four children knew that, and Bucky, being the first, was no exception. She was from Romania, and her grandparents on her mother’s side (which Bucky supposed would be his great-grandparents) were Romani, and her father was a farmer. Bucky and his brothers had gotten their ice-blue eyes and legendary tans from them, according to his ma. His pa’s family was Black Irish, on account of them having dark hair and dark eyes, like his sister. Mirela was relentlessly proud of her Eastern European heritage, despite her husband George’s constant attempts to quiet her, for fear of reproach from the community. Regardless of his warnings, she often paraded around with her tarot cards given to her by her grandmama in hand, offering to tell the women of the neighborhood their fortunes, because she was “Romanian, and a quarter <strike>G*psy</strike>, you know!” Steve’s mother was the only one who would indulge her, and Mirela loved her dearly for that. _

_ Where Steve’s family had been just him and his ma, Bucky’s family was made up of six people. There were his parents, who’d had him when they were just 17, and unprepared to be parents. The shock of his birth put off the possibility of siblings for a good long while, until he was 8, when his sister was Rebecca was born. Two years later, his brothers, the twins, were born. George had insisted on naming the both of them after presidents like they had with Bucky (who would never forgive them for that), but Mirela wouldn’t have it, and so a compromise was made. The twins were named Thomas Jefferson Barnes and Jack Benjamin Barnes. _

_ As of now, Becca is 89. Tommy and Jack are 87. Of course, Bucky’s parents have been long dead. He went to see their graves once. Steve had to drag him out of the cemetery as his angry screams split the air. When the news first broke that he was alive, Becca called Steve’s house and asked for him. As soon as he heard her withered voice say one word, he crushed the phone in his flesh hand. When he saw Jack in a press conference looking like their old grandfather had in 1935, he turned off the TV and spent three days without saying a word to Steve. _   


_***_

_ “Heya, Steve,” Bucky says, weakly, “There’s someone you should meet." _

**Lils: *whispers* maybe now they’ll have a use for the second bed in their apartment in the tower**

***

_ Steve Rogers isn't afraid of anything. At least, that's what people always tell him. And for the most part, they're right. Except for when Bucky tells him that. Then he just shakes his head and smiles sadly and says, "That's not true. Losing you... That's the only thing I've ever been afraid of." _


	2. Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically anything I took out or scrapped while editing both works but wanted to keep around for posterity

**_A Winter in the Sun: _**

**From Chapter 1- **

_It isn’t very hard, since that spectral entity of the past still floats around his brain, coaching him. Occasionally, he hears a voice in the back of his head that sounds very much the way he thinks Bucky would haveThis man informs him, with a cocky and sarcastic presence, just how he would have responded to situations in memories, or daily occurences. He is telling Barnes the “Why?” he cannot remember, and though sometimes his comments make the man internally roll his eyes and shove the clean-cut ghost away,_

_ “Why would I risk leaving the HYDRA facility in order to wait for Steve?” _

_ “Because, dummy, you LOVED him.” _

_ *** _

_  
And besides, the ghost in his mind is whispering that while looking a bit roughed up ain't nothing bad every once in awhile, it's good to be clean, to feel scrubbed and new.Barnes is still confused by the vague flashes of a man who seems to have been him once, and when these little tidbits of his old personality resurface, the resulting feeling is new and unfamiliar (most feelings are), and Barnes allows himself to give in, continuing on behind the Captain. _ **Lils: i kinda feel this paragraph doesn't really make sense here, bc bucky's not really in the right state to be actively thinking "damn, i hope i look good for this blond adonis" but if you wanna keep it, that's fine. i just think he doesn't really care about his looks, or about who he's looking good for.**

Originally, I played with this idea of Bucky's memories manifesting as a sort of ghost in his head of his former self who he interacted with. But ultimately, I realized it was sort of confusing and cheesy. And Lils comment totally made sense. 

***

_"What about the tube?" _ **Hun: ok i guess i dont need a heart anyway!!!111!!1!11111**

***

_ Their eyes both swivel over to look at him, one pair wide in shock and the other gleaming with that affection. Too Cute , they both think, though one man is naming the TV show and the other...well, not so much. _

***

_"In London… There was this one G.I. I met. A captain, but not like you, Steve, a real captain. We, uh, you know... Doubt he’s still around… John? Jim? Can’t… Remember…he had friends too, a man, Smith? And a blonde dame named for some flower, but they seemed pretty smitten on each other so I didn’t even ask past the Captain. And before that, another guy..."_

This was in Bucky's dialogue about his dalliances with men in the last century. Yes, some of you caught that it is a Doctor Who reference. This is because when I met the tumblr famed "Whovian Cap" at Disneyland in 2015, I was wearing a David Tennant shirt and he did a great job of reacting in surprise and telling me how John Smith saved his life when a burning bridge fell on him in 1945. Seeing as The Doctor Dances is one of my personal favorite episodes (Ah, Glenn Miller), I decided to add this bit in his honor: I ended up taking it out with the last edit because it didn't really fit the overall scene and how Bucky was specifically remembering someone that Steve had been jealous of. 

**Original Chapter 4-** <strike>that i need to rewrite because golly i did not realize it was so weirdly pieced together the first time around ALSO WHY DID I TRY TO MAKE EVERYTHING DRAMATIC AS FUCK FSDHJKFSKJJKJK</strike>

_They don't talk about what happened, how Bucky's nighttime upset had driven Steve from the house and then straight back into his arms. True to Fury’s word, Bucky’s anonymity is indeed gone only a week after coming to the tower. There’s a knock on Steve’s door the next day, and there are government suits standing right outside, all stiff gestures and pleasantries, trying to push past Steve into the apartment, and asking Bucky to come with them. Steve adamantly refuses, blocking the doorway with his torso. Bucky panics, having already gone into high alert the minute he heard them coming up to the door. He’s nervously shifting around the bedroom, fingers twitching as though wishing they held a weapon. Steve hates the look in his eyes, frightened, threatened… Ready to defend himself._

_“Bucky, it's not HYDRA...it's the government. They won't hurt you. You have rights.” Steve tries to tell him over his shoulder unsuccessfully._

_The words do nothing to calm either of them down, not after seeing how deep the organization’s influences could go with the fall of SHIELD. Bucky considers sneaking out through the emergency exit and going somewhere to hide… But the building is surrounded by squad cars and what looks suspiciously like a backup SWAT team. Besides, this is the only home he knows, with Steve. Bucky isn't ready to lose him again._

_When Sharon Carter shows up with a shiny new CIA badge and an apologetic look, Steve almost starts throwing punches. Before he can, Stark and Maria Hill appear with an entourage of security personnel. Tony isn't going to allow them to take him off Stark property and put him on trial. They weasel the agents into allowing Bucky to stay in the tower instead of arresting him and putting him in government custody. But there’s no such thing as a free ride._

_Ultimately, Steve is forced to attend a press conference and reveal the fearsome Winter Soldier is none other than his loyal childhood friend, Bucky Barnes. There is a collective uproar from the audience and the press goes wild. He goes on to explain how Bucky survived the fall in the Alps, was found by the Soviets, turned into a weapon, handed over to Hydra, and subjected to cryogenic stasis, torture, brainwashing, and memory wipes. Some member of the press thinks to stand up during the Q&A and inquire why James didn't make these claims himself, and why he isn't present at all. He informs them that Mr. Barnes is currently trying to piece back together his life in the wake of the crimes he committed as Hydra’s puppet, and didn't show up for fear of facing such accusations and hostility. The reporters are silent or cordial after that. Steve makes a point to inform them that he will stand by his best friend indefinitely. There’s also a moment where he kind of inadvertently threatens the president for trying to take Bucky away, his voice raising, hands quivering on the grip that have nearly crushing the mic protruding from the podium upon which he stands. The black metal and cloth warped beneath his trembling fingers, spurred to clammy life in his rage. Steve never was good at using sense when it came to protecting Bucky. After that, Hill shuts down the press conference pretty quickly, one corner of her mouth downturned as she steps up to Steve’s shoulder, folds the mic away from him, and tugs him out of the room. Her fingers stay firmly wrapped around the crease of his elbow the entire time, even as she turns to bark at the remaining press swarming them in a small mob that no more questions will be asked, Captain Rogers being much too exhausted from the long duration and strain of the trial._

_Steve receives a firm talking-to from his PR lady about thinking before you speak in order to avoid accidental acts of treason. Angry citizens surround the building where the conference is held, petitioning for legal recourse in heavy coats and some with signs emblazoned with anti-Cap sentiments, and pro-America tirades. Exiting out the back, the crew present helps transfer Captain America into a waiting car._

_Steve returns home with a weary smile, and immediately finds Bucky, drawing the man against him and holding him tightly in his arms. The only signs of emotion the prevalent tremor to his hardset shoulder blades, and the way his fingers gently pluck at the hair falling into Bucky’s eyes, moving it safely behind his (slightly pinkened) ears. Bucky, though mildly shocked, resists his instincts to pull away and lets Steve hug him for the second time that week. He didn't watch the conference on television, so he can only assume the bullets Rogers took in his place. He's… grateful to Steve, and so maybe he even lifts his arms and squeezes him back, just a little bit. Maybe, but if he did, no one else was there to bear witness._

_* * *_

_It’s been a few months since the Triskelion and the Helicarriers fell, taking SHIELD and Hydra with them. It’s undoubtedly the longest consecutive amount of time Bucky’s ever been off the ice, and the memories are now flooding back, more quickly and more chaotically than ever. As he’s started remembering more, he has “episodes” as Steve has begun to call them. They don’t last long, but oh God , they’re frightening. They terrify him. Bucky’s brain gets all messed up for the duration of them, often because of something stupid and irrelevant that ends up triggering him. He flashes back to when he was Hydra’s puppet, and sometimes, the only words he can find are in Russian. He often has trouble remembering his name, or even worse, Steve’s. He’s even attacked Steve a handful of times. Those are the worst ones._

_Steve always gets to him to calm him down, help him remember before he does any real damage, and besides, he’s still too weak, and now he knows he could never really hurt Steve again, no matter what state of mind he’s in, especially after the helicarriers. But even when he’s being the Asset, it terrifies him... Even when he shouldn’t be able to feel, he's so lost and confused and doesn't understand what to do with himself, or Steve. A thousand possibilities run through his head, because, hell, this is a different world than the one he grew up in, and there are opportunities that he’s never had before, but he’s also considering whether or not he should just get the hell out of it all together because he's not sure how different he'd like it to be. It’s harder when Steve isn’t around (because a lot of the time, he isn’t), but Bucky manages. It helps, having Myshka there to ground him, give him something to feel responsibility for. Her constant presence, purring ringing in his ears as he drags a hand, sometimes metal, other times flesh, down her downy back and focuses on the warm she provides. He is gentle with her, and the reminder that he can be gentle at all is often enough, washing over him like a warm wave at the nape of his neck, where sweat pools like tears and shudders tiptoe down his nerves in the dark, to remind him he is not the evil that haunts his brain. His former self will laugh at him, but the scoffing smirk that comes within the depths of smoggy memory cannot mask the rueful sheen to his eyes as he reminds the soldier before him that this is all he can have; asking any more of Steve right now is cruel and impossible, so these moments have to be enough to bring him back to sanity’s crystalline shores._

_Gradually, everyone in the tower accepts that Captain America is rooming with a former Soviet assassin and HYDRA puppet that tried to kill him (and still occasionally tries, if unintentionally and half-heartedly) and other members of their team at least once, because he also used to be Steve’s best friend, and is now the only direct lifeline he has to his past. They can respect that._

_Wilson actually comes to be close with Bucky, if not a friend, entertaining in his manner of speaking, and very helpful in his process of remembering. Barton seemed wary of him initially, and during their first official conversation, he had pointed to Natasha, and said with a glare, “Shoot her again, and we’ll see how much you enjoy a little... Acupuncture .” He’d looked pointedly at the sheath of arrows lying on the couch in Tony’s penthouse and winked before stalking silently away. Bucky realizes that Hawkeye and Black Widow must have something going on between them, he has gathered that much. Natasha might be the only one other than Steve that Bucky will outwardly consider a friend. She holds no grudge for the time he shot her on the mission, because she was doing her job just as he was, and he was at the disadvantage of not knowing who he was, and she refuses to blame him for instructing her in the Red Room. “Just another puppet in their sick play,” she tells him. She also happens to be the one person who was there for part of it, and it was done to her too, so she understands at least a little, he likes to think. And it doesn’t hurt that she speaks Russian too. However, she can sometimes be a pain, often giving him knowing looks when she catches him staring at Steve and and she will blink expectantly while mouthing rude suggestions in Russian._

_Steve, of course, is fortunately oblivious to all this, happy Nat has found someone else to toy with, and has stopped bothering him about his love life, or lack thereof. He obviously doesn’t know that the woman is only preoccupied because she is trying to get Bucky to instigate something withhim._

_Bucky doubts he’ll ever forget his second conversation with her as a real person. She had been observing Bucky’s mournful pining looks towards Steve for a while, and she clearly remembered Bucky’s accidental confession in the hot tub. So she’d sauntered over in a cloud of black leather, tight clothes, red hair and light perfume. “You,” She said without apprehension like the others, prodding his muscled chest with one long fingernail, “Need to tell him.” And at Bucky’s uncomprehending look she sighed in annoyance. “ Clearly , you have feelings for him. I can see it every time the man makes a move, you immediately start staring at him. God, it's like he hung the moon or something.”_

_The brunet huffed. It wasn’t his fault that seeing Nat and Clint secretly in love next to Tony and Pepper made him want the same thing. He knew it was something he’d wanted before, too. He could remember the feeling of longing, the shivers he got whenever Steve touched him first, always passing it off as an aversion to the smaller one’s constantly cold hands. But Fury had a strict policy: no fraternizing amongst agents. He said it was for the safety or the organization; that involvements could split, and cost him the teamwork that was often so valuable to a mission, or lose him an agent, or both, if a lover were to be discovered by the enemy and used as leverage. Now, Barnes did not give a single damn who Fury said he could or could not love, but he had agreed to play by the one-eyed man’s rules and would continue to as long as it meant he wouldn’t be separated from Steve. He did not want to make things difficult for his best friend, who he knew was still very much dedicated to being SHIELD’s hero, and helper. Natasha and Clint were careful themselves, sure, and scorned the rule… But Bucky did not want to hide._

_Steve was sunshine, he brought all the warmth around him and held it cupped, golden and radiating, in his palms to bring to Bucky’s parched and cracking lips. As much as Bucky might want to taste the elixir of his love, the sunbeams he offered instead would have to be enough for him to get drunk on. He could not ruin this for Steve; could not bear the thought of being thrust back out into the darkness again because Steve could no longer stand to be around him, not when the blond already offered him so much in his honeyed smile. Bucky would never jeopardize their second chance like that, trying to reach for the moon on the tips of his toes for something just a little bit more._

_“Listen, I tried to fix him up with a couple of girls,” Natasha informed him, “but I’m pretty sure he isn’t interested in that because he's not over you . I know how much he cares about you, and how your death still hurts him after all these years. Besides,” She leaned in close and whispered to him in Russian, her breath tickling the shell of his ear, “He told me he couldn’t date anyone because they didn’t share his life experiences. And who else do we know that grew up in 20th century Brooklyn, up until 1942 before they were drafted for the War and also just now happens to be trying to recover from the resulting trauma of the aforementioned war, as well as several other extraordinary and unforeseeable circumstances and readjust to life in the 21st century as a genetically modified super-soldier? Oh, wait… ”_

_Bucky swatted a hand at her, batting her words away. If Steve wanted someone with shared life experiences, Bucky was not the person to ask. He could barely remember vast segments of his life, and besides, Steve wasn't interested, he was painfully aware of that (and that was without mentioning that Bucky was a man, and goddamnit, Steve wasn’t that way). Steve had always been the brave one. If he'd wanted Bucky like that, he would've said something a long time ago. All the same, a little voice still whispers But what if? Maybe? He always tells it firmly to shut up._

_Either way, despite Natasha’s ribbing, Bucky slowly becomes less hostile towards the other occupants of the Tower, what with the way Tony came through on his promise of a new (and safe) arm, complete with full sensory input, and Thor marvelling at his strength, and somewhat perverse sense of humor, after Bucky had finally opened up a little. The expanse of the Tower has become sort of a hangout for Bucky and Steve when they don’t feel like staying shut in their apartment (which isn’t often, but there are some good days)._

_But one day, something goes wrong. He has another episode, and this time, it's in front of everyone. So far, he’s managed to keep them confined to the apartment, but something apparently triggers him. He isn't really sure what happens. He’s in the kitchen of the common area, sitting at the table. All he knows is that Steve isn't there, but some of the other Avengers are, and everything's too loud, too heady and he can’t remember his name for a minute, and suddenly he slams his metal fist on the table. The sound of metal striking expensive (but reinforced) glass reverberates around the room like a gunshot. Everyone’s head immediately snaps around to stare at him like he’s just shot another president. The frosted glass top has cracked under his force, the diagonal line crawling jaggedly from one end of the table to another. In a sick metaphorical way, to Bucky, it looks like his anger at HYDRA for freezing him, doing this to him… Hurting him, making him become this thing. Erasing all his memories just for him to regain them and forget everything else for a while. Instantly, there's a change in the atmosphere of the room. It's like the temperature's dropped, but emotionally. They're all eyeing him warily, tensed like animals ready for a fight. The only sound is his breathing, heavy, and thick as it constricts tighter in his throat. It feels like plunging into freezing water, eyes shut and mouth pressed together against the onslaught of the fluid that wants to drown._

_There's a moment's silence, and then one of them (he's not really sure which and he doesn't really care) asks, "Barnes, you okay there?"_

_"Stop." He growls, "Just stop. Why don't you people ever just stop talking?" Everything feels freezing, zeroed in to his focal point fist, still clenched amidst the spiraling fracture that was once a table. If he tries to uncurl each finger, release each synthetic fiber digging into chrome palm, even moves it just a little, the whole thing will shatter._

_Natasha shifts slightly and Bucky notices the gun in her lap, her finger curled around the trigger, a black snake hunkering down in the swaying grass. This just makes him angrier._

_"You can put that away, you know. I get it. I'm messed up. Believe me, I know that better than anyone. But maybe you could all at least pretend to treat me like a person! Just 'cause I'm damaged doesn't mean I'm going to snap at any given second!"_

_Natasha gives him a pointed look, and then she directs her gaze lower, blue eyes piercingly bright. Bucky follows it, and he realizes that he's holding his knife in his right hand._

_"Oh God," he swallows, "I didn't mean--I'm sorry..." He drops the knife on the table in front of him, drawing away from it like they were about to use it on him._

_Natasha coolly sheaths her gun and turns to Clint, whose face seems strained in trying to pick a reaction somewhere between pitifully concerned, almost understanding maybe, and stonily defensive for his team, saying, "Why don't you go grab Steve?"_

_Steve rushes in a few moments later behind Clint and comes to a halt before the group, taking in the scene in front of him. Clint has apparently informed him of what has happened on the way over, and he nods his thanks at him and Natasha before holding out his hand without a word and helping his friend to his feet._

_Bucky follows him outside, not saying anything. They stand on the large, secluded balcony, looking out over the city, a cool breeze blowing their hair. Steve shuts the door behind them, and suddenly it’s just the two of them and the New York city skyline. Already, Bucky’s head feels a little clearer._

_“So,” Steve says finally, voice devoid of any emotion that he fears might upset Bucky more. “You wanna tell me what just went down in there, Buck?”_

_“I wasn’t going to hurt them.” He growls, teeth clenched. The knuckles of his right hand are stretched taut and white, the bones and tendons straining against the skin, as they grip the smooth steel railing, and he leans out over it, surveying the long drop down._

_“You can't guarantee that. You had a knife!” Steve snaps a little, and now he sounds audibly upset. Bucky thinks maybe he’s finally gotten on the Captain’s last nerve, and Steve will send him away for good. He steels himself, ready to lose the last good thing he has again._

_“I wasn’t going to... I wouldn’t-- He might’ve, you stupid punk, but not me. I wouldn’t hurt anyone you cared about. Not unless they hurt you first.” He answers, voice a dismal whine. Steve stops and stares at him._

_He unfreezes after a long minute. “Sorry--I... You sounded like--him.” The Old You hangs unspoken in the air between them. He apologizes to Bucky and gives an uncomfortable cough, blinking as his face reddens._

_“Well, maybe I was... For a minute. Maybe I felt like it.” The brunet murmurs softly, and looks at Steve with glistening eyes._

_“Buck,” he breathes, and surges forward automatically, wrapping an arm around his shaking shoulders and putting his face close to his friend’s. My Buck, he does not say. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? You’re my best friend, you have to be okay.”_

_He finds he quite enjoys being referred to as someone that is Steve’s , and knows this would be a good time to do what Natasha said he should. Her words ring in his ears, and that pesky voice in his head starts blabbering up a storm again. Steve cares for him, that much is apparent, but is it as a friend... Or something more? Is the dream from before a token of the long since glittering past, or a shadowed omen of the riches they could have? Talking about Jack and the army, he remembered having feelings for Steve, but did Steve have them for him back then? Does he have them for the man Bucky is now? For so long, he’s thought the answer couldn’t be anything but no, but now he isn’t so sure._

_The feeling he gets from being in such close proximity to Steve is exhilarating. It makes him feel a bit dizzy, even. It prompts him to experience a temporary loss of inhibitions and he asks, “Were we--Were we lovers? Did we ever…?”_

_Steve’s breath catches. He’s still so focused on worrying about Bucky’s episode back inside that this question takes a minute to compute in his mind, and when it does it pushes all the air from his lungs. He feels like a kid again, wheezing just from taking five steps. He doesn't remember it being this torturous, not being able to breath. A woven circlet crowning his bobbing Adam’s apple, the noose of dazzling gems that may be bits of broken glass, hot red ribbon or iron, a world-stopping feeling of shock that could kill him in the best way. Bucky's been watching him closely ever since he turned up in the apartment, and Steve knows he's been using him as an example, relearning how to act human. He should have known Bucky would pick up on... How Steve feels. It's not Bucky's fault that he's misinterpreted this as emotions that used to be reciprocated, even if it hurts Steve a lot. It take him a while to respond._

_“No,” Steve says, finally, and Bucky supposes he should feel crushed, but there’s a tone to Steve's voice that makes him question his sincerity._

_“You’re lying to me.” He accuses. His voice is unchanging, without a trace of uncertainty, though his shoulders are shaking under the strong arm still around them. Even so, his words sound gruff and Steve can hear the betrayal in his tone. He needs to sort this out before Bucky gets the wrong idea and pushes him away._

_“No, Bucky, I just… No. We weren’t lovers. Well, I mean… Once, when we were in London after we broke you out of the Hydra camp… But you were really drunk and upset. I don’t think you really meant to, you just wanted comfort, and you came onto me and you wouldn't stop and I didn’t know how to react and things kind of just…” he seems to notice he’s rambling and trails off._

_Bucky’s insides feel like they’ve been set alight, singed and sooty fingertips ghosting over an old photograph of the two of them, lighter flicked open but never moving closer to the paper’s edge. He knew it. He knew they’d slept together. And the moment Steve mentioned it, the fragments of the memory began to fall back into place. “I wasn’t.” he states._

_Steve frowns, “What?”_

_“I wasn’t drunk,” he clarifies, “I… I pretended to be, so… y’know… So it wouldn’t’ve been weird, if you pushed me away. I told you, I didn’t want you to think I was a freak.” He takes a breath. “Steve.” He presses his eyes shut and intones the name like it’s a prayer, “I think… I think I loved you.”_

_When he opens his eyes, the look on the other man's face is unreadable, but Bucky'll be damned if he doesn't catch a flash of pain in his eyes. "That's not... Bucky, I think you're confused. You're not remembering things right... You told me after it happened, it didn't mean anything. You were just lonely and upset. Nothing more."_

_"Well, then, I lied to you, didn't I?! Goddamit, Steve! You’re always so oblivious! It was 1943 and we were two men, and I wanted you as more than a friend, and for more than just sex, and I was an idiot! I was scared, okay? I didn't know what to do! I know you don’t get what that means, to be scared, but I was terrified . You’re not afraid of anything, never have been." He says, bitterly._

_Now Steve's eyes are closed, and it seems like he's fighting to stay calm. “That’s not true.” He whispers, and Bucky scoffs. “It’s not,” Steve insists, “I’m--I’ve always been scared of losing you. Forever.” There’s a pause, and then, "You wouldn’t even kiss me." He states, as though this disproves everything Bucky's saying._

_Bucky's voice breaks, "I--I couldn’t…” He states awkwardly, tripping over the words. He knows the answer as to why he didn’t, but saying it aloud seems like too much to bear after all he’s already said. “I wanted to… But you were--I couldn’t do that to you. I knew--I know you aren’t that way, okay? I figured if I just turned around and let you do what you wanted, you could pretend I was whoever you wanted me to be. And then it wouldn’t have had to be that way--At least for you…” And anyways, kissing him would have said too much… He would have known how Bucky felt about him, and after that, it would’ve been just a matter of time before Steve passed judgement. There would have been no going back from that, and back then, Bucky wouldn’t have been able to take it._

_Steve gives him a look akin to a glare. Bucky briefly wonders if it was a mistake to bring this up at all, even now. But then, the look melts into something much softer. “How long?” Steve asks, after what seems like another eternity, another 70 years, “When did you start?”_

_Bucky takes a shaky breath, “Always, but I don’t think I knew till later. Maybe on your 16th birthday? When we took my uncle’s boat out and it was just us and… I think that’s when I realized...” That you were sunshine, sweetly sipped from a marigold cup with lips that were already slurring words; drunk on besottedness. That you were the sea breeze, salty and enticing, that brushed the soft strand of hair out of my eyes so I could see the shoreline. That you were everything I’d ever wanted with your scruffy hair and scrawny frame, each protruding bone something beautiful, delicate, but never fragile in the way it seemed. That your eyes cut me to the core and pricked my heart and from then on I could never be anything but yours… And you couldn’t have me. Things were different, they’d have killed us both, and I spent too much time already trying to keep Death’s sticky fingers out of the sparkled gossamer of your soul._

_“All that time…” Steve looks incredulous, “And now?”_

_He freezes and his stomach plummets. Now you know why you didn’t tell him then. The ghost is bitter in his mind._

_He doesn’t know what Steve wants him to say. He doesn’t know what he should say. Hell, he doesn’t really know anything anymore, because all he can think about is replaying that moment over and over in his head when he pretended to be smashed in London, and his lips connected with Steve’s for the first and last time (after Steve fell asleep, since Bucky couldn’t risk it while he was awake, because he knew if he did, then he'd never be able to stop and Steve would know and it would all be over), and it was better than he ever could have dreamed._

_Is this what Natasha wants? For him to just put everything on the line, bare his entire soul to Steve so that the man Bucky so desperately loves can--can what? Bucky knows Steve so well, and yet, he has no idea what Steve will do with everything Bucky is giving him. There’s so much fear and uncertainty, and it’s driving him mad, it has been since that night on the boat in 1934. Even so, he thinks he’ll be glad to finally have it off his chest. There have never been any secrets between him and Steve. Except for this. For it to be gone… Will be freeing, he thinks._

_“Yes.” Bucky murmurs, “And you can kick me out if you want, I don’t care. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just need you to know now, Steve. I already have to lie to everyone except you, and I can’t do it, not while I'm like this. I can’t keep lying to you, not like I did then. I loved you back before the war and I still love you--”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asks in distress. He steps forward, “I love you too, okay?”_

_Bucky backs away, sure he hasn’t heard him right, and continues, “It’s fine if you don’t want me that way, I just need you to know that you mean everything to me and if I lost you again without you knowing, I don’t think I could--”_

_Steve cuts him off by pushing him against the cold railing and whispers in Bucky’s ear, “Just listen for a minute, why don’t ya? I love you. Now shut up and kiss me.” Steve reaches for the collar of Bucky’s shirt and pulls him forward._

_Bucky grins wickedly, perched precariously on the edge of the railing, the only thing preventing him from a huge drop he’s not sure even he would survive, but his eyes are swimming with unshed tears. He doesn’t care. He arches his back over the metal and slings his arms around Steve’s waist, and the wind is freezing them both so he shivers, and its stinging his eyes but he doesn’t care. This is what it means to be alive, and he is no longer the dead man he once was, the heartless creature those people made him._

_“Fucking finally, punk,” he half-sobs, half-laughs. Just before the distance between them is completely gone, Bucky asks because he has to know, “When did--?”_

_“The moment I saw you,” Steve breathes (and really , Bucky thinks, Could he be any more dramatic? ), “From the moment I first saw you. I always knew.”_

_And with that, their lips are pressed against each others’ and Bucky can’t think of anything better than this moment right here and now. He’d fall off a thousand trains, wait forever in an icy tomb with brainwashing and torture and pain, just to be able to stay here for a second more. Steve’s lips are warm and soft as they meet his own, and Bucky feels his knees falter but Steve holds him up, hands moving dangerously down the small of his back until they are just a drop lower from uncertain terrain. Then Steve pulls back for a minute and sighs, “You know what? You're a fucking idiot, Barnes.”_

_Bucky stares incredulously at him. “I… What?” Not once has Steve Rogers ever said those words to him in such a serious tone before, and honestly, he's a little offended. He’s also fairly certain that it isn’t common practice to make out with (and subtly grope) people and then insult them. He’s understandably confused._

_“You're a complete fucking dumbass!,” Steve reiterates, “I can’t believe you never told me! We had so much time back then! And we both went to our deaths without knowing what we could’ve had, because neither of us ever said anything!”_

_First, Bucky takes notice of how unfair it is that Steve's the one complaining about waiting, when really, it was Bucky who had to wait, in and out of stasis, while Steve was hibernating in his cozy little arctic tomb (he knows what a massive understatement that is, but Steve is being petty too and it’s second nature for Bucky to fire right back). But that's not important. He knows there's no point in arguing with Steve about that. Instead, he'll just defend his previous lack of willingness to come forward and admit his feelings. And now, with Steve’s big revelation… He should understand too._

_“You know why I couldn’t! You know why both of us couldn’t.” Bucky stares at the floor. He and Steve were beaten up enough just for the damn kid’s stubborn attitude as it was. But something like that, in the 1940s… It wouldn’t have just been assholes sauntering around on the streets. It would’ve been people who’d used to be their friends, maybe even their families, and the cops, too. They’d have gone straight to jail if they weren’t careful (and really, had anyone ever known them to be?) and Bucky knew that there was no way Steve could’ve survived jail back then. The label homosexual would’ve just painted an even bigger target on Steve’s back, one that was almost certain to get him killed._

_“I don’t care.” Steve protests, “It would have been worth it. For you, it would’ve been.” Typical._

_“Not for me, goddammit!” Bucky retorts, “Losing you... I’d rather have you alive, without this, than have this for a week, only for you to go and get yourself beaten to death over it! Don’t you understand? You’re everything to me! If you’d died back then, I’d have made sure I followed before the day was up! And for all I knew, if I’d said anything in the first place, you might’ve hated me for what I was! And if you had, how could you ever be able to look at me again? I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t risk losing you. You were still my best pal, even if you didn’t love me like I loved you.”_

_The other is silent for a moment and then he tries to speak, voice rough and cracking. “How could you even think that? I can’t believe you called meoblivious!” says Steve, “‘Til the end of the line. No matter who you loved, or who I loved, it would have always been that way. And I wanted it to have been you… But you never noticed how most girls didn't want a thing to do with me. You kept trying to set me up with them.”_

_“I wanted you to be happy. Stupidest damn girls on the planet, not falling head over heels for you...” Bucky cuts in, sighing. For a moment, he wonders how he hadn’t seen it before; how neither of them had. They’d lived together, cared for each other, promised to come back to each other, saved each other. Steve had broken orders to save him. Steve had risked himself to go back for him, tried to get him to safety without him. Just get out of here! Go…. He’d almost died for him, taken on Hydra and SHIELD for him, given up all else for him. Sure, he’d loved Peggy, but Bucky had no idea how he’d never seen the love still shining beneath the surface, like a penny lost beneath the murky fountain, for him. And he’d loved Steve too, had the man not noticed how he’d taken him in, nursed him back to health because he’d rather be starving, poor, and thieving than lose Steve. He’d fought alongside him to protect that kid from Brooklyn he still saw in the Herculean warrior that said his name in the same, infatuated tone. No, not without you! No one had loved Steve like he did._

_“But they all wanted you , Buck. You went out with so many women, I thought there was no way you'd… All that time…” he says again. He sounds stunned... Unable to believe how much they could’ve had._

_“I don’t know how those girls didn’t see you were the only one I ever wanted, even when I didn’t know it myself.” Bucky lifts his real hand to Steve’s face and traces his cheekbone with his thumb. “But now we have all this time,” he breathes, moving back in to kiss him again. Bucky isn't always sure what he wants, but for once, he knows he wants this, whatever it is._

_For just a moment, Steve feels his heart fluttering just like it did in the old days, and his chest contracts. But this time, he knows it's not a heart palpitation or his asthma. This... This is all him. Well, really, it's all the fact that Bucky's lips are moving against his and it suddenly doesn’t feel like a sin and he's loving every second of it, and now, Bucky isn't even (pretending to be) drunk off his ass. They part for half of a moment, and Steve inhales Bucky's scent. It's just the way he remembers, and he knows it's probably just nostalgia, but somehow, the smell of the docks Bucky used to work on still clings to his clothes. He smells of fuel and seaspray and sweat and the East River and a thousand other things Steve shouldn't crave but does anyway. There's a cold, metallic tinge that he doesn't remember from before, and it's different, but Steve has to admit, he likes it._

_Sure, Bucky realizes that he’s going a little overboard with the whole kissing thing. But hell, he's been waiting for this since he figured out that he was in love with Steve a little over 80 years ago. He licks across Steve's lips and elicits a soft sigh of contentment from him. Then he starts moving lower, down Steve's neck, and is met with a series of scandalous noises. Bucky reaches for the hem of Steve's shirt, but to his surprise, is met with resistance. Steve pulls back, and Bucky lifts his eyes to meet Steve's, which are closed. Breathing heavily, he grasps Bucky's wrists and moves them away from him._

_"Not now." He says, "Not here. We should take this slow, do things right."_

_Bucky nods in agreement. Not now , but there’s a promise in there that there will be a time when his hungry ravaging of Steve’s cool, windblown skin will be acceptable. The thought of it sends a shiver down his spine, and he’s glad he got some practice in before he was taken by HYDRA._

_“Before that,” Steve adds suddenly, snapping his companion out of his thoughts. He smiles wryly, looking up at Bucky with hooded blue eyes, fringed with long lashes. Bucky would have him now, he’s so damn beautiful the ex-soldier cannot stand it. “There’s someone who I’ve been meaning to pay a visit. I just... She deserves to know, she’d probably even do something foolish like say she knew all along and offer her congratulations.”_

Including this just because I'm so much happier with the chapter as it is now, but this one was the first thing I struggled with about the old fic, and I want to keep it here as a comparison of how you can improve over time. 

*** 

_ As much as it breaks Steve's heart, Bucky doesn't understand kindness anymore. _

**From Ch 5-**

_Sleep is hard for Bucky. _ **Hun:OMGNKGNRGHIEHGEVBNEJKFHEFHEJFBJKDFBFQEFEFBKJVUFGIUVWBEG JRVKBFDJIVHUJNMGBJHFUVDJFM,DVJNCUOJBTM,EGDBFUODAQJNMS,VDAHFBHJEFGBDSGBDJFDSJFDSJDHGDHGSFGHJFJKDHGFVNCNVDSOIFUE09R742895723841294-31R9=-PR21O4-3=290T84T308RT-0329549T494295-02 I. READ. /STEVE/. NOT. SLEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

**Lils: "steve is hard for bucky"**  
**i mean...**  
**where the lie**

***

I took it out because it didn't work but originally Melanie the receptionist was a girl with a vintage pinup style in Cap colors, and Mr. Lemos was a nice old man who teased Steve and Bucky about being "friendlier" than when he saw them fighting on the news. I didn't even want to include the original writing because it was SO CRINGEY

***

_ Somehow, Natasha learns that Bucky Barnes is in Steve’s apartment. Soon, Fury and Hill know as well. They all give Steve the same speech that Sam gave him. “Why didn’t you say something? You don’t know for sure you can trust him! He’s dangerous.” Steve waves them all off. He doesn’t think much of any of them knowing because he wasn’t really hiding it from them in the first place. He just didn’t feel like he had to tell them. It doesn’t matter. At least, not until there’s a knock on Steve’s door one day, and there are government suits standing right outside, and they’re all stiff gestures and pleasantries, allowing themselves into his apartment, and asking Bucky to come with them. They both seem to realize that this out of their hands, so Bucky surrenders himself willingly, and they lead him into a black truck. Before the doors are even closed, Steve is already on the phone with Fury, who is promising that he will do what he can, use the connections he has to get Bucky out. _

_ Ultimately, Steve is forced to attend a press conference and reveal the fearsome Winter Soldier is none other than his loyal childhood friend, Bucky Barnes. There is a collective uproar from the audience and the press goes wild. He goes on to explain how Bucky survived the fall in the Alps, was found by the Soviets, turned into a weapon, handed over to Hydra, and subjected to cryofreeze, torture, brainwashing, and memory wipes. He informs them that Mr. Barnes is currently in the custody of the government, and is awaiting trial for the crimes he committed as Hydra’s puppet. _ <strike> _He also makes a point to inform them (against Fury's and Hill's advice) that he will stand by his best friend indefinitely, and is hoping for a complete acquittal due to the fact that Bucky wasn't in his right state of mind because of the previously mentioned brainwashing._ </strike>

_ In the weeks leading up to the trial, Steve goes to visit Bucky everyday in the government containment facility he is being housed in. He knows that his best friend is undoubtedly being interrogated and profiled by whatever specialists the government is sending in, but Bucky seems to be holding up, and Steve’s proud of him for that. The Avengers and Sam frequently turn up at Steve’s apartment, offering their emotional support and lots of alcohol (even though they all know full well that he can’t get drunk). Tony even appoints his legal team as Bucky’s defense. Steve knows he’ll never be able to repay him for that, even though he offers money that Tony refuses to accept countless times. _

_ The trial itself is long and arduous, stretching out over the course of 5 months, and it takes its toll on everyone involved, excluding the media, which seems to be having field day after field day. The prosecution is relentless in its attempts to paint the Winter Soldier as a sociopath with full cognisance of his actions, as a brutal mercenary who killed for the thrill of it. But they can’t hold a candle to Tony’s lawyers, who present the jury with numerous exhibits, showcasing what Bucky had been subjected to at the hands of the Russians and Hydra. Steve himself is one of the last witnesses to be called to the stand. He testifies on Bucky’s behalf, of course, trying his hardest to give away nothing that can be interpreted as incriminating, while still sticking steadfastly to the truth. Last of all to take the stand is Bucky. The defense has their turn with him, asking him about his experiences under Hydra’s control. _

_ He seems to shut down halfway through the prosecution’s relentless questioning, and eventually the lawyer gives up and says, “No further questions.” Then it’s time for the closing statements. Tony’s legal team is exceptional. The jury deliberates for 10 hours. The final verdict is Not Guilty on all charges. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is cleared and unhandcuffed. _

_ They go back to the apartment that night, and Steve politely declines the Avengers’ offer to celebrate at Stark Tower. Bucky feels a sense of relief that he hasn’t felt since the winter of 1936 when Steve got pneumonia and Bucky swore he could feel his friend’s life slipping away, until that moment that Steve was suddenly just miraculously better. _

  
  
  
  
He makes a mental note to remember to thank Howard Stark’s kid.

***

_Bucky briefly has the thought that perhaps he should haul himself out of bed, stumble down the hallway, half-blind with eyes bleary from sleep, and join Steve beneath the falling stream. He only considers it for a fleeting moment before his little devious grin falls from his face. Steve is probably still expecting him to be asleep, and besides, they only just worked this whole thing out. He’s not sure how comfortable Steve would be with it anyhow, _

**Hun: THE ANSWER IS VERY YOU IDIOT. LOL IM SO MEAN TO BUCKY **

**Lils: HONESTLY. IT'S OK I MEAN TO STEVE SO IT ALL WORKS OUT. this probably says a lot about us D: lkJASFLKASJDFKLALSDJFLAKSJFLKALFAJSDLFJA ¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯**

_he burrows further beneath the sheets, soft, white, sateen-woven Egyptian cotton _ **Lils: apparently, these sheets are v expensive I HOPE THEY PUT THEM TO GOOD USE _**AHEM**_**

**From CH 6- **

a_ file photo of Brock Rumlow, now aka Crossbones. _

**Lils: idk if they'd know it was him? bc remember, at the end of catws he gets a building dropped on him and suffers from severe burns and such... so like, obviously he's extremely disfigured and they probably have no idea he's still alive, which makes him even more dangerous. he'd be the last person they're expecting. and also, he has a new mask on the cacw set. but if you want, we can just keep going with this, i don't really mind. Hun: oh right. well, for one thing, its not like a recent photo. its his file photo for like the database in which they keep all the intel, probably the shield one at that. its like if i looked you up in a year book, the picture wouldnt be your most recent selfie...so theyd obviously recognize his file, at least his face, if not knowing whose face it is. if you want, we can have someone ask who that is bc steve remembers him but doesnt know his identity and theyre like rumlow. its literally just there so anyone reading it knows who the person theyre fighting is. and also we could have someone be like what hes a,ive i thought he died when a building fell on him (haha nope) and then when they actually run into him he can be all jacked up and burned and hydra tried to patch him up but didnt really bother making him appear normal again. **

**Hun: i added in the stuff from my earlier comment, so it makes more sense now. plus rumlow's super painful physical description gained us another page 110!!!!!!11111** **!!**

**From CH 7- **

_Bucky eventually lets himself revert back to his training, to the habits ingrained into his muscles, and he falls into place, silently following Rumlow across the city. After a while, he realizes the man means to leave the state, crossing over into New Jersey. It’s been too long without him coming back to the Tower, and he knows leaving New York without letting Steve know would be much too cruel. He has to get in touch somehow before he leaves, but he will be leaving. He’s spent too much time alone with his memories of all the things the organization has done to him without returning to give them a little hell of his own. He wants revenge now. It was much too easy for his Winter Soldier conditioning to fall back into place, especially after such a minor injury to his head. The thought of all the other ways that demon could be brought back terrifies him. It seems much too simple for someone to get his training reinstilled in his mind as the dominant program of action. He’s mad at HYDRA, sure, but even more angry at himself for letting it be that accessible. It’s his own fault for being so damn vulnerable._

_If Bucky cannot take his anger out on himself through self-destruction, he will take it out on them with his fists. He’ll burn the whole damn place down if he has to in order to make them feel his pain. Even then, they’d probably need a lot more than just that by way of retaliation. HYDRA stole so much away from him: his life, his love, his duty, his humanity, not to mention his ability to live a normal life. He’ll hunt down every last member of this crooked organization, just as he’d planned to back during the War. And every single one of them will know what it is like to feel that sort of loss; to have something precious robbed from their hands. They’d played him as the villain for so many decades, just another evil face that disappeared into the crowd before you could catch him. He would be that villain now; he’d become the malicious specter they’d always seen if that’s how they really wanted him. The thought was slightly terrifying, but also gave him a sick sense of calm: that he would avenge his former self… The angry, helpless victim of their evils. Before, returning here would be a challenge… Now, there is nothing but gleeful anticipation of the wreckage he’ll soon cause._

_He stops just outside of Hoboken, where the closest base he’s followed Rumlow to is disguised as an old milk bottling and processing plant. From a safe location, he uses the secure line Tony had given all the team members and has JARVIS patch him into the Tower’s communication systems. The dial tone runs for a few short moments before Steve’s voice eagerly comes through on the other end. Bucky can practically envision him slamming into things as he dashes to the phone. He feels a quick pang of guilt once he hears the undertones of urgent concern beneath Steve’s initial angry inquiry._

_“Bucky!” He breathes into the phone, sounding incredibly relieved. “What the hell ? Where are you? What are you doing?”_

_Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m fine, Steve… I followed Crossbones to a base and I’m gonna take it down.” There is silence for a few moments, and Bucky is worried that the line’s gone dead._

_“You're going to do what?” Steve says in a low tone, each word sharp with weighted disapproval. Bucky’s resolve falters._

_“The base...a HYDRA base. I’m infiltrating it.”_

_“Why?” Steve cries out, sounding frustrated beyond belief. “WE completed the mission! There was no need to pursue, alone , and risk your safety!”_

_“Steve, there was every reason. We might be able to stop them now… Or at least come close. Besides, I had to do this. Damn my safety, I want to get even.” Bucky snaps, hand clenching into an angry fist. Why does Steve have to be so difficult? He did the exact same kinds of reckless and stupid things when it was the Commandos taking out bases across Europe._

_“ Fuck that, that’s a stupid excuse. I care about your safety! We could have worked out a plan...done this together. You didn’t have to go alone.” He says, and the last line sounds like a desperate whine._

_Didn’t they just talk about this? Why couldn’t Steve just let him live his life? Steve asked Bucky not to baby him… Why is there such a double standard? Sure Bucky’s a man haunted by ghosts, the entity of his former self taking a backseat to all his actions, and those he’d created always swarming, and he’s volatile sometimes when his emotions get the better of him. But does that really mean Steve can’t trust him to do his job? If there’s one thing he can do, capably, it will always be what they’d programmed him for._

_Bucky bites back a snarky retort. “I don’t need your team to babysit me, I can take them on my own.”_

_Steve’s voice falls, and so does Bucky’s heart when he hears it. He missed something important about those words. Shit . “I didn’t mean the team, Buck.” Steve replies dejectedly. “I meant you and me… The two of us. I thought… I thought that’s what this was, what we’d promised each other. You and me, always having each other’s backs in everything.”_

_By that time, JARVIS has traced the man's location so that they can send in a Task Team if anything goes wrong. There’s nothing more to say, and Bucky bites his lip as the dial tone rings loudly in his ears._

_Bucky instantly is awash with regret, his fingers itching to seize the phone and frantically redial the number, hoping Steve will answer so he can mend things between them. Yet he knows it wouldn't do them any good, and the longer he stands out here, the more at risk of being discovered he is. If he’s going to make things right with Steve, he’ll need to be alive. Steve, once he calmed down, would understand. He wouldn’t want Bucky risking more than he already has in order to patch things up. Stealth is key to getting safely into the base, and the best thing he can do for Rogers right now is to succeed and return alive. They can make up later, they're good enough at that. Hell, if anyone has time to wait around, it would be the two of them. He moves quickly down the hill, creeping with light feet, his tread soundless as he makes his way up the service road, jumping the barbed wire fence quite easily. The chain link quakes under his weight with a metallic ringing noise, but that is all and as he lands with a soft thud in the gravel lining the area, his feet touch HYDRA property for the first time since the Helicarriers crash. He flexes his toes with anticipation, adrenaline levels rising and making his skin tingle before he darts forward, eyes scanning the exterior of the plant for a way in undetected._

_Suddenly he spots an open window, and it only takes moments for the super soldier to scale the twelve foot wall and climb through, squeezing his bulky frame through the small square cut into the concrete. He grunts without thinking as he forces his shoulders past the wooden sill, his hands gripping onto the planks, which groan in his grasp, the green paint flaking away in his hands. He dusts off his palms on the black material of his mission wear pants, before lifting his head to survey the area. He’s in the hallway, and to his left there seems to be an office converted into storage. He jogs over and starts prying open crates, beginning to pull out weaponry to refill the clips for his two guns, to grab a third knife and latch it to his thigh, and grab two more extra magazines. This time, HYDRA would not catch him unawares._

_After he's properly armed, Bucky sneak quietly down the long corridor,always on the alert, listening for the slightest indication of an agent coming to ambush him. It is completely silent in the base, which is incredibly eerie. Bucky got in here much too easily for his liking; he didn’t even have to take anyone out… No guards, no agents, no handlers. He’d even have expected the head of HYDRA to come and greet him with an armed team, but to be honestly he has no idea who’s running the organization now. Pierce is dead, Whitehall was rumored to be controlling it, but he too is now deceased… Some sort of incident between the deranged father of a gifted agent and Coulson. He’d heard whispers that they’d chosen two new men to lead, but their status as of yet was unknown to him. For all Bucky knew, they were killed by SHIELD and someone random had assumed power, like maybe that bitter orphan boy always trailing around Garrett like a lost puppy. He thinks back to some missions, remembering that the Soldier had never trusted his loyalty… Which was to Garrett. Man, that guy had some attachment issues, almost worse than him with Steve now. Bucky chuckles softly to himself, almost hoping to alert someone of his presence just so he’d stop feeling so uneasy about his solitariness._

_Almost, but not quite. Which is why he is caught off guard when a woman suddenly slinks out from the shadows in the direction of the west side of the plant. He freezes at the sound of her heels coming to a stop behind him, pivoting slowly on his own to face her._

_She stands tall, her legs long and curved beneath her tight black pants and her leather boots. She wears a grey top that is loosely fitted to allow for more movement beneath a black jacket, which Bucky knows she will throw off if he makes the smallest move, ready to fight him. He picks out the shape of a knife against her thigh, a gun holstered at the small of her back, and the earpiece wedged in beneath her hair, which is tied back into two long braids that hang over her shoulders. Her dark lips smirk at him, and her brown eyes crinkle as she watches his mind process her image. Bucky’s fists clench in agitation, or anticipation of driving them into her tanned jawline. She is, as he recently read in his file, Agent Avery Turnabout, his most recent handler._

_“It’s been awhile, Soldier.” She calls out tauntingly, her eyes seeming to gleam with amusement. This is all just a game to her, and she’s ready to play. “Miss me?”_

_Bucky calculates for a quiet moment, tension crackling between them in the air before he suddenly rushes forward, lunging for her waist. She slides backwards cooly, her body bent into a crouch, her arms thrown behind her for balance. In her left hand she expertly twirls a capped syringe he knows is filled with sedative. She won’t use it...yet. This is too much fun for her. Bucky doesn’t reply and instead tries to hit her down again. She blocks and counters with her other hand but Barnes feints left and twists out of her grasp, his fist slamming into her mouth as he rolls over to the right and ending up on his haunches behind her. He kicks out his right leg and catches her in the ankle, wiping the dark smear of lipstick off his hand and onto on his leg. She falls backwards with an exaltation of surprise, landing on her side and quickly tries to get back up, but Bucky swoops in, pinning her down by the wrists. She struggles beneath him, as he uses all of his body weight to keep her from standing or flipping him over and gaining the advantage over him. THe arm whirs and sputters, much like Turnabout in her surprise._

_He chuckles darkly under his breath, eyes meeting hers coldly. “I guess you trained me just a little too well, didn’t you?” He spits at her, crushing her wrists in his hands until she cries out and drops the syringe._

_The vial cracks once it hits the floor, liquid bleeding out into her hair. Bucky knows that she can't control him now. He grunts as she tries to whip her thick braids at him, ducking and pushing her back against the wall, still sitting on her legs. She snarls at him, looking at him with murder in her eyes._

_“What’s wrong?” He asks mockingly, taking up an air of ignorance. “Don’t you like a little competition?” He tuts at her as though disappointed when she goes limp beneath him, giving up all resistance and tossing her head back. She actually starts to shake. “I didn’t know you just stop playing when it looked like you were going to lose.”_

_Suddenly, Avery lifts her head and Bucky sees that she’s been laughing hysterically, her shoulders shaking with unbridled glee. Bucky frowns at her, knowing that she's trapped beneath him and has no way of getting him to release control over her. He’d covered all his bases, and she should at least be begging for mercy if she isn’t going to resist. He wouldn’t give it to her, he can remember all the things she’d done to him, forced him to do… She turns her face towards him, barking out a harsh chortle. Her lips part as she crushes her ear against her shoulder, activating the earpiece and reporting back to whomever is on the other end._

_She says slowly, “We’ve got him right where we want him, sir. The Asset has been reclaimed.” and when she grins at him, her wide mouth parts to reveal large, white teeth stained pink with darkening blood gushing from her gums and pooling against her lower lip._

_“Hello, Soldier.” She purrs, her voice low and much too calm for someone about to die. Bucky scowls at her. “I think we can both admit what would be the best course of action.”_

_“Shut up!” Bucky hisses at her, grip tightening again. Oh, fuck, no . He’d forgotten about this… Their last resort. A failsafe he’d always been programmed to selectively ignore, wiped to forget whenever they needed to utilise it against him. It was there, stirring at the back of his memories, but as of yet unreclaimed. It always worked to catch him off guard._

_“Take a deep breath.” She continues, and Bucky eyes widen in shock as his whole body is shot through with a paralyzing fear. The Faustus Method still haunts his nightmares._

_“I said ‘Shut up! ’” He yells at her, flinging her against the other wall by her wrists. He is certain he hears one of them snap like a twig beneath his metal arm, which is groaning loudly in contrast to her almost silent thud against the wall echoing down the corridor. One hand goes to her throat, squeezing harshly to try and make her stop talking. He is panicking; his heart is racing against his heaving chest as he screams at her to stop. Anything to get her to stop. She chokes beneath his hand, face reddening as her eyes frantically dart around, hoping for someone to come to her aid._

_“Clear… Your… Mind.” She wheezes, and against his will, Bucky can feel the tension ebbing from his brain. The terror clawing at his throat begins to recede as he goes slack, his arm dropping into his lap. He stares at her with large and dulled eyes, his mind screaming at him to fight, but unable to do anything but watch her as her delicate hands, not even a fingernail chipped from their ordeal, move to her neck to rub at the bruises forming along the surface of her skin. She smiles at him brightly, pleased, and he can’t help but smile back. What the hell is wrong with him? How could he have let her win… He can hear footsteps echoing down the halls as more agents swoop in. He counts at least thirteen pairs of feet, the number ringing around his emptying head._

_“But, you know this is for the best. Aren’t you ready to comply?” She coos at him, one hand moving to smooth down his cheek in a soothing manner. His muscles relax, and his jaw sets as he feels himself nod. He should have been smarter about this… Steve was right-- Steve! Aw, hell, Stevie is gonna kill him for this. Absolute murder. His last thought as Bucky Barnes is of Steve, his golden face crinkling in despair when he gets the news, before he distantly heard a gruff voice that hasn’t been his own for a long time answer,_

_“I’m happy to comply.”_

_“Prove it.” Comes the response from the leading lady, her fingers flying quickly through her dark locks as she rebraids her hair, which has escaped its coils during their fight, and Bucky nods again, moving to follow her down the stairs at the right, never a step behind her._

All this was just extra fluff and I don't like the character of the Handler I created anymore and I don't think we needed ANOTHER dramatic fight between them right after they literally just resolved that issue like it's time to move on they aren't that emotionally constipated.

_* * *_

_After a while, the woman with the braids briefs him on a new assignment. She tells him it is very important for the fate of the organization and for the nation that he do this. The Soldier nods quickly, letting her know he is listening._

_“It’s a Special Ops mission,” She explains, pulling up a location on a map projected onto the screen before him. “We need you to go to this area and check the building for any signs of life, or important technology. Have the men with you look for important documents or information amongst the belongings. Then, when you're certain there is nothing nor anyone of value to us, burn the place to the ground. I don’t want even a trace of it lingering… That might bring about… Temptation.” She says, choosing her words carefully, and Bucky frowns. Her speech is odd to him, but he assumes she means it’s filled with intel that could endanger the sanctity of the free world. He will do his duty in protecting it by taking out this evil place, and anyone in it. His eyes flick to the screen, and settling on a red dot pinpointing an apartment building in Washington D.C._

_“Who lives there?” He inquiries, committing the coordinates to memory._

_She shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly, but even so she cannot hide the apprehension in her eyes as she answers him. “Just some criminal… He goes by the name of Steve Rogers. But enough, it is not your place to question your assignments. Comply.”_

_The Asset shakes his head clear, knowing he has overstepped his bounds. “Compliance will be rewarded, I shall comply.”_

_***_

_Their flight to Virginia doesn’t take long, and Steve sits in silence the entire time, drawing up battle plans and trying to figure out a way to get Bucky to come back with them if they cannot get him to remember anything. His leg bounces up and down with nervous energy, and Natasha eventually places her hand on his knee, holding him still. Steve sheepishly apologizes, and the woman merely raises one perfectly arched red eyebrow and shrugs. Their plan is to lay low once they arrive, looking for signs of HYDRA activity or Bucky. Once they locate him, they must find a way inside and get to Barnes. Steve will get him alone and try talking to him. If that doesn’t work, Natasha will incapacitate him and they’ll bring him back to the Tower on sedatives strong enough to keep him down. Steve hates the idea of keeping Bucky locked up inside the Tower stronghold, he feels that his return should be willing like last time, but he knows they can’t afford that luxury. Bucky needs to be saved before HYDRA can inflict more damage, to him and to the world they lay at his feet. He’ll stay in confinement until Steve can get through to him. Sam would help, and Agent May has offered the services of her ex-husband, a trusted psychologist, as well. Steve sighs a heavy breath. They’ll get through this. They always make it through; clean up each other’s messes. It’s what they do._

_When they land, they use cloaking devices Stark has created which give them the appearance of civilian clothing, while they remain in gear and ready to fight beneath the suits. They wander the streets of downtown Richmond for a few hours before Steve notices a few men in dark suits stalking around the office of a bigshot CEO of tourism sites. Motioning to Natasha, they sneak inside undetected and listen at the door. HYDRA is paying off the official to remain silent on the most recent plan of theirs: to blow up the State’s major tourist attraction, because it is actually a front for the CIA. The CEO will cover it up for the right price, and then gain access to HYDRA’s resources, mainly the use of a very special Asset: the Winter Soldier._

_“But what do I want with some agent?” He is asking them, and they respond._

_“No, he’s no agent. It’s a weapon. A wonderful, skilled weapon that works efficiently and without remorse.” Steve’s face flares in rage at that, because all Bucky does is regret what HYDRA made him do… What they’ve just made him do._

_Their other party makes an agreeable noise, pondering it over before consenting to their offer. He accepts the funds wired to a Swedish bank account and promises that no one will ever know the explosion was anything but an accident. Then he asks if he may see the Soldier, and is informed that he may, as the man is currently locked in cryo. Steve and Natasha tail them as they move down the corridors and dash down stairs, Steve’s blood pounding in his ears, when the agents take an elevator down below to the bowels of the building. They make swift work of taking out each agent, most of them negotiators unskilled in combat, and the surprised and outraged CEO. Steve freezes once the last man has fallen unconscious to the floor. He has alerted SHIELD of their location so that operatives can come in and disable the temporary headquarters for the organization. But they won’t arrive for another half hour or so… For now, it is just them, and Bucky. _

_Steve crosses over to the cryochamber, and his knees feel weak. He drops down on them before the looming steel coffin, the blue-green window frosted over. He wipes his careful hand over the condensation, Bucky’s sleeping face peering back at him. His face has more stubble, he needs a shave, and there is a large gash beneath one eye. His lip has scabs along the bottom curve, as though he bit it too hard. Natasha knows how to work the machine, so Steve turns to her. She slowly powers it down, and opens the heavy door, the hinges creaking loudly as though in protest. Steve stands up and backs towards the only exit, hoping to block it so that his lover cannot escape in his confusion. Natasha watches as Bucky blinks slowly, prying open his eyes. It can take a while to come down from cryo-treatment, she knows. His pupils widen as his eyes adjust to the dim light in the basement, and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, eyes moving around quickly to take in the underground room. Natasha can tells he’s waiting for someone to come and help him, so she offers him her arm quickly, letting him step down to the floor. It is all going well until he turns to her and realizes her hair is red, and not in braids. She is not his handler, and he is instantly alert, flipping her over by the arm and backing up, fists raised. Natasha lets out a grunt, and then flips backwards, landing on her feet, poised to sparr._

_“Bucky!” Steve cries out automatically, and the man’s head snaps to attention, his gaze diverting from Romanoff to Rogers. He growls low in his throat, before starting for him. His groaning fist, taught with energy, connects with the shield, and the clang of metal on metal reverberates throughout the concrete cellar like a gunshot. He dodges more of Bucky’s blows before knocking him away from the stairs with a few of his own. Bucky doesn’t even flinch. Steve knows what he has to do, and he mentally chants an apology as he drives his shield, hard, into the side of Bucky’s skull. He doesn’t hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious, but still the crack of vibranium against his bone makes his stomach swoop sickly. _

_Bucky soars backwards, hitting the ground hard and skidding to a stop in front of Natasha. Standing up, he sways slightly, his eyes seeming to clear. One hand moves, in what appears to be a subconscious manner, to clench into a right fist around something in his pocket. Clearly it is something he wants to protect, but Steve doesn’t have time to be concerned with whatever the mystery object is right now; he needs to get Bucky to remember. It doesn’t look like they'll be able to sedate him, and that is still a dark and ominous road of betrayal Steve does not want to go down. For one thing, he feels like coming out of this, Bucky will have dealt with enough trauma to last a lifetime all over again, and the last thing he needs is to feel taken against his will and a loss of his control to the one man he thought he could find safety in and trust. Steve is no fool; he values the things Bucky shares with him, things he doesn't give to anyone else. For another thing, Steve wants Bucky to remember, he needs it. He’s lost Bucky four times now, and he’s terrified that this time he will not get him back. That is unacceptable. Bucky has always meant the most to him, and maybe it is a bit possessive and vain to need someone else to be alright for his sake, but at its core, love is incredibly selfish in nature… And Steve Rogers is a man in love. _

_Steve looks down at his feet, and then begrudgingly at the man before him. It won’t be long before he regains full awareness and tries to kill him again. He will have to do this now, while Bucky still has a chance of remembering. He refuses to lose him, ever. He steps forward, shifting his weight as he catches Bucky’s arms and pulls him close. The delirious soldier falls against him, resting his forehead against the Captain’s shoulder almost gently. He seems so lost, and helpless… Like a child. His eyes are wide and round, and very clear blue as he peers up into Steve’s face, squinting._

_***_

_He is huge, and seems young, but this black widow can see the age in his eyes. He is the ever present vexing god, waiting on his crumbling ionic column to die. She can smell the stink of the frosty coffin on him, it comes out in his sweat. She is only a little girl, but she can smell it on herself as well. Later on that night, they wipe him. Of course they do, when you say a stupid thing like that and let them know you still remember. He is not careful, or wise like she is. His screams carrying into her dreams. She dreams she is sitting in a small house in the country. Her old grandmother is there, making a pot of soup as she tells the children a story. They are Natalia’s children, born of her womb. She smiles softly at them before resuming her quilting, splaying the fabric over her protruding belly, feeling movement within herself. She falters, as the quilt across her lap is made up of black and grey shapes forming a firing pistol. The monotone blanket is growing crimson as blood pours down her calves, and she is yanking at the cuffs latching her to the bed. The children shriek from their seat at the hearth, crying out for her to find the source of the screams and snap his neck like a chicken. In the morning, she regrets not asking him the name of the blue-eyed man. _

GOD THIS IS JUST ALL SO AWFUL I AM SO GLAD I IMPLIED HIS RESCUE RATHER THAN KEEPING THIS.

_***_

_All good things cannot last forever, and so it starts with a dream. Often, the darkest memories, one of scattered images that move too fast, sounds so loud in the ear he shivered, sure that his tormentor was directly beside him happen while he is awake. Visions of hazy black spaces that brought only disorientation, leaving him whitewashed in a cold sweat crash through a quiet contemplation at random moments of time throughout the day. They come unannounced and unwanted. When he remembers good things, not facts or dates or names, but pleasantries, days to be celebrated and held on to, he is asleep. When Bucky Barnes receives relinquished pieces of himself, of the man he was from the shadowy specter that still swirls around the mist in his memory, he dreams._

_He drifts off that night enclosed in the protective ring of Steve’s embrace, and in his dream he is mobile and stands in his old schoolyard. The brick building, all four looming floors, the windows small and covered with the greasy fingerprints of pesky children. Over in the corner, by the bench where they used to play jacks and marbles, lay coils of brown skipping ropes. The handles are the same brown wood, thick and heavy in a child’s hands, the rope long braids of coarse thread of a dun colored material. It is dark in the school yard, the sun not yet risen, small stars still winking in the indigo sky, high above the city skyline of tall buildings that stretched their iron structures and turned their faces up like Otys and Ephialtes, attempting to scale the heavens. Bucky turns his face upwards, towards the sheen of stars clustering along the sky, soon to be lit by a bright ball of fire. Maybe he can climb the ladder where the tall, black silhouettes of the trees meet the stars and reach the heavens, too. He kneels to the dusty pavement, strewn with faded drawings of crude figures in chalk, pebbles and dust, and takes hold of one of the skipping ropes in his hands. He hefts the cord, feeling the weight of the handle at the end, but lets it go slack. This is no weapon, and Bucky is hardly going to kill anyone with a jump rope. Besides, he realizes as he turns his face up again, shading his eyes with the other hand, which he notices is flesh and blood, not metal and electricity, and pivots on his heel, there are only three other people in the school. He can hear distant sounds of cars passing by, and children’s laughter being carried to him on the breeze, shadowy figures of classmates passing him by so quickly they don’t usually register, but three solid figures stand off to his far left, just outside the door of the school. One is a tall woman, her dress is starched and the creased are clean cut, ironed properly. Her heeled boots click on the stairs as she tugs two small boys inside the school. Brown locks are swept back into a neat bun, tied tightly at the nape of her neck, and there is the slightest hint of rogue on her cheeks. Mrs. Oswald, Bucky realizes with a start, my teacher. She drags the two little boys, one looking worse for the wear, to the office, and kneels beside them as they both clamber up onto the bench with their little legs, fabric of their corduroy shorts catching on the red painted wood. A skinny little blond boy is covered from head to toe in cuts and bruises, sporting a black eye and a gash dripping onto his shirt collar, the red stain growing by the minute. Ms. Oswald dabs a bit of cotton with antiseptic and presses it to the bleeding wounds, harshly telling him off for always getting into mischief._

_“Those boys were picking on Martha, Ms. Oswald and I just couldn’t stand it anymore!” He protests emphatically, his voice high and clear, waving about his tiny little hands and skinny little arms. Bucky’s eyes go wide as he recognizes Steve as a child, in trouble again for picking fights with the bigger boys. Their teacher chides Steve, advising him not to shout in the main hallway, so close to the secretary’s office, and holds his knees to get him to stop fidgeting so she can finish bandaging the abrasions on his skin, covered in dirt from tumbling down in the grass. He mumbles an apology and shares a tiny smile with his friend beside him. It is him, Bucky is sure; the boy sitting silently on the bench is himself. He recognizes the blue button down shirt, and the shoes a size too large for his feet that belonged to a cousin, or a neighbor’s kid. He kicks his legs as he sits quietly, feet dangling above the tiled floor. He pushes his little grey cap back from his forehead, his brown hair a tangled mess his mother will not appreciate when he returns home that afternoon. He does not return Steve’s smile, instead choosing to stare straight ahead at the clock on the wall past the open door across from them. The seconds tick by. It is almost noon, and Ms. Oswald will either have to let them go back to class or send Steve home, again. When Mrs. Oswald is done, she goes to “have a chat” with their principal, a man by the name of Mr. Wilkins, and promises to be right back to escort them to class. Steve picks at his bandages, gingerly pressing his stubby fingers to the shiner on his left eye, which he holds a cold towel to. Turning to Bucky, he presses him with questions, trying to get him to say something. Finally, his friend can stand it no longer, and fixes him with a deadly glare. His little fists grab Steve’s collar and shake him roughly._

_“Shut up, Steve! Don’t talk to me. You promised to keep your nose out of everyone else’s trouble and you lied to me. You haven’t done anything.” Bucky bursts out, tears beginning to drip down his chin. He angrily wipes them away._

_“Bucky,” Steve says, face crumpling into despair. He doesn’t want his best pal mad at him. Especially not when his best pal is his only pal. “Buck, I’m sorry. I tried to be good, honest, I did.”_

_Bucky scoffs, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Lousy try. Some friend you are, Rogers.” He hops down off the bench and walks a few steps away, but cannot truly storm off because he has to wait for Ms. Oswald. Suddenly he turns back around, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks again. “Why’d you always have to fight people, Stevie? What did the whole world do to you?”_

_Steve opens his mouth to respond, knowing Bucky has already forgiven him, when their educator returns to lead them back to class. Bucky spends the rest of the day practicing his penmanship, and Steve sits in the corner with a flat, thin reader. All Ms. Oswald says is, “You are lucky James was there to stop them, Steven. Don’t let this happen again. He may not always be there to protect you.” _

_Bucky awakes from his dream slowly, eyes peeling open as fragmented chords of the memory still tug persistently at the edges of his thoughts.He finds himself still locked in Steve’s embrace, the child quick to fight now a grown man, an old man living a much longer and more interesting life than he dreamed he ever would. “He may not always be there to protect you.” Looking back, Bucky comes to the conclusion that Ms. Oswald was wrong. _

this dream sequence/memory got taken out because we had too many although I do love the inclusion of these boys as kids... maybe it can come up in the sequel!!!!

**Original CH 10 which I deleted because I didn't think we really needed it**

"I've been sleeping with these,  
I've been sleeping with these thoughts, man  
I've been contemplating singing them.  
So stand up, catch fire with me.

I'm scared, I may derail.

You can follow them to hell.

This kid's not alright."

_More problems show up at the tower one morning, just before noon. He and Steve are in their apartment, Bucky lying beside Steve on the couch, his legs covering the Captain’s as Rogers attempts to watch whatever’s on TV over Bucky’s shoulder, his chin resting just below the curve of his neck. Bucky doesn’t actually know what they’re watching… Some history program on Renaissance art he believes from the vague snippets of dialogue or flashes of cracking, muted colors painted on canvases or in frescoes on walls that make it past the barrier of thoughts distracting him, but he couldn’t say for sure. He is only certain it has nothing to do with the time period in which they both lived before or during the War. Steve jokes that there’s “no point in watching a program on something we lived through,” but he can tell that any sudden reminder of their past lives is rather uncomfortable and unwelcome for Steve; for either of them. Bucky couldn’t focus on the show anyways, not with Steve’s steady heat pressed against the curve of his back, and his mind is lost to thinking about their time apart when his own carelessness delivered him to HYDRA’s eager hands, and Steve’s dedication to recover him. Barnes knows he’d do exactly the same in Steve’s position, hell, he’d have burned the whole world before he let Roger’s slip through his grasp now , but it is still sometimes amazing to him how much the man cares for him as a friend, a partner, an ally… A lover. He never wants to force Steve into that predicament again, not if he can help it. This train of thought is interrupted by the chime of JARVIS announcing that they have visitors, and Captain Rogers presence in the debriefing room is required and desired immediately._

_Steve sits up with a slight frown, intrigued. He questions the interface, but JARVIS will provide no further insight, insisting Steve discover the answer for himself when he arrives. His brow furrows only for a moment as he looks questioningly at Bucky, not wondering anymore why he is wanted, but asking if the man will be alright on his own for a while while Steve is gone, but it is banished from his face as soon as Bucky stands and makes his way to the door before Steve can even think to stop him. He shrugs softly, mulling it over. He doesn’t care if they don’t want Barnes there… They’re a team, and Bucky wants to know if Steve is put in danger. They both head down in the elevator to the debriefing room where they had been not too long ago, about to steal off in the night to fight Rumlow. They find there waiting for them, leaning back dangerously far in his chair, feet pushing against the glass table, a pensive looking Tony Stark, accompanied by a tallish man with light brown hair, a starched suit, and a wide smile that wrinkles his whole face. His eyes light up as Cap enters the room, and his partner, a lithe but hard looking woman with dark hair who seems entirely capable of kicking anyone else’s ass there, rolls her eyes towards the ceiling with a sigh. Coulson stands upon Steve’s entrance and then sort of lingers with his arms half raised, looking uncomfortable for a moment before Melinda’s sharp tug returns him to his seat._

_“Cap!” Phil Coulson breathes excitedly, a little dazed… As though he never quite expects Steve to look so majestic every time they meet, even in his grey tee shirt and sweats as he is, before quickly coughing into a fist and correcting himself. Stark raises his eyebrows in an amused manner, sitting up a little in his chair, tipping even further towards the edge of falling backwards. “I mean-Mr. Rogers, Steven… Steve! I- Captain , we have a mission that needs completing-that is, if you want-”_

_The woman, with an irritated glance at the Director of SHIELD, pushes him aside easily and cooly approaches Steve without any starstruck hesitation. “Captain Rogers. There's a mission.” She says bluntly, cutting straight to the chase. Steve offers her his hand, but she doesn’t shake it, instead producing a small box from her pocket and placing the silver cube on the table, where a blue, hazy projection emerges to show him a map with coordinates._

_Then she checks herself and directs a pointed glance over Steve’s shoulder at Bucky, hanging back behind him against the wall, her hand immediately reaching behind her to shut off the projection of the mission plan. Coulson turns to look as well and catches Bucky’s gaze._

_“Agent Barnes! Hello! I don’t know if you remember me, ah, I think we met once or twice… Before you-” He breaks away awkwardly as he sees that Bucky has no recollection of him. He laughs softly, embarrassed, and rubs at the back of his neck with a dark silver appendage that Bucky recognizes as Tony’s own handiwork. He catches Bucky’s noticing and waves the hand at him with a small smile. “Oh, this, yeah… There was an incident where I almost died because of Cree alien tech.” He wiggles the metal fingers, thinking back to the stinging flame of Mack’s ax as it severed his stony hand. “Looks like we’re part of a club now… Along with Luke and Anakin Skywalker!” At Bucky’s blank stare, he laughs uncomfortably again and goes quiet. Steve makes a mental note to have Bucky start his own list of things to catch up on. He keeps missing pop culture references that seem to be so vital to conversation these days._

_May is still staring pointedly at Barnes. Bucky’s arms are crossed over his chest, and he inclines his head towards her nonchalantly. Broadcasting into the space the sort of greeting that holds a false sense of casualness beneath his stubborn intention to stay where he is, Bucky meets her eyes with a steeled gaze, and May’s lips purse into a thin, disapproving line. She raises one eyebrow before tossing her head back to look at Stark, her expression changing to one of mild disgust and hostile judgment at his childish and stupid antics. He is still barely upright, now trying to balance a pencil on the tip of his finger as he turns the cube over in the other hand, observing the mechanism curiously._

_“Stop that!” She snaps sharply, snatching it back and replacing it onto the table._

_He grins at her, and then jerks his head towards Bucky. “He’s fine…” Stark drawls, waving a now empty hand in her general vicinity dismissively. “I doubt he’d leave you alone with Steve anyhow, it will be faster to let him stay.” He adds, eyes still on the cube. May relents with a toss of her head, casting her eyes back down as she reopens the projection of the map._

_“Captain Rogers, here you see a map of a location recently active on our spectrum for criminal activity. We suspect hints of HYDRA agents, since the location is in close proximity to an old SHIELD base. We’d like you to go investigate, if you don’t mind… With help from Agent Romanoff once she returns from her current mission in Baghdad.” May goes on, pointing a finger at the red dot on the map signifying the base. The map shifts, panning out to show the area surrounding the base. “There are three entry points off the main road, here, here and here. The one at the end is the safest and most secluded, but also the most used. Therefore, its still got an active security system that was left running after the base shut down. You’ll have to examine the electric fence and disable it, along with the minefield just outside the property border.”_

_“Minefield? That doesn’t seem too safe for the civilian town just outside the base.” Steve cuts in with a raised eyebrow, finger drawing a line to a small village not twenty feet away from the area. “The fence doesn’t enclose the armed area… Don’t you think that is a bit-” _

_“Certain precautionary measures had to be taken to protect the base.” May cut in, her tone dry. “The base was used to hold secret SHIELD intel and weaponry. That entrance led directly to the armory, which is why keeping it locked was such a high priority, even at the risk of a few casualties.” Steve looks very unsettled and anger simmers just below his cool composure. Bucky takes a step forward just in case this turns ugly. “The civilians for the most part have learned to stay away; there hasn’t been an accident there in years. The base is empty now, the only ones interested in it are HYDRA. We believe they hope some artillery is still left behind.”_

_Steve crosses his arms, unsure, as the hologram zooms out, a red line forming a path between the tower and the location. It isn’t far, only a state over. They could be in and out in a day, depending on how much he and Nat end up finding. Steve agrees to the mission, and as May pockets the cube, JARVIS supplies that he will dispatch the necessary coordinates and maps, along with mission data, into a file sent directly to Agent Romanoff’s device. With a wave that seems more sarcastic than genuine, she departs, leaving Coulson, who bids them goodbye cheerfully, to follow behind her out onto the street and into a waiting cherry red, classic car that Tony remarks looks suspiciously like it can fly as he watches them retreat from the window._

_A few days later, the recollection of the memory in his dream resurfaces for Bucky. Steve and Natasha still investigate some sort of explosion in New Jersey near the old SHIELD holding facility. Apparently, the possible HYDRA agents they were set to look into figured out how to use the minefield to disable to security fence. May forgot to mention it was once also a POW prison of sorts for the other side’s agents. They must hurry if they want to catch the agents before they find anything left behind by accident after SHIELD’s collapse, human or weapon. He asks if Bucky will be alright on his own, worried furrow to his golden brow and apprehension pouring from his gaze. Bucky assures him he will be fine by himself and half shoves him out the door, even making a sarcastic comment about not forgetting to bring home milk, just to make Steve smile again. In truth, he isn’t sure if he can handle being by himself, and only agreed because he could tell Steve was being eaten up by his emotions. He wouldn't talk to Bucky about them, probably because he felt like he couldn’t, and Bucky knew getting out of the Tower would be good for him. Maybe, if he has to, he can wander downstairs into the common room and pretend he had sensed danger, then sit on the couch while the others stare at him. Perhaps Barton will ask if he wants to play Mario kart or something. He could kick ass at Mario Kart. That or he can always call Wilson and ask him over. Not that he ever has before, at least not when Steve wasn't around, but Bucky is pretty sure Sam won’t mind. Hell, Steve probably had already told half of his team that he would be gone and to keep an eye on the ex-assassin._

_Barnes mills around their apartment for a while, picking up pillows and trinkets and setting them back down, slightly askew, in different locations when he was done absentmindedly fiddling with them. Buck begins to wish Steve and Natasha had asked if he wanted to accompany them to the site and help the analysis. He was there when the mission was assigned. Still, even if Steve wanted to have asked, he knew that the Captain would have been advised by Romanoff not to. She knew Bucky still wasn’t entirely stable and that even something minor could set him off. Bucky isn’t so stupid that he can't realize where they were going once held HYDRA agents, along with weaponry, and that the captive atmosphere wouldn’t be too far a step away from what he had experienced with HYDRA himself. Bucky knows they are looking out for his best interests at heart, but he feels alone and listless. Plus, the threat of danger to Steve nags at the back of his mind, especially after his dream. He thinks of their teacher’s ominous advice, that there would be a time when Bucky wasn’t there to protect Steve and that something bad would happen if the little boy wasn’t careful._

_Now, Bucky knows Steve is fully capable of handling himself, and that he has the red-haired agent to protect him if needed. And Bucky trusts her to look after the Captain, since he had trained her himself. He knows all too well how tough training camps for the Black Widow programme were, and has no doubt in her abilities. This still doesn't leave him feeling any more reassured of Steve’s safety. Ever since that night, Bucky had felt slightly on the edge, as though it really would come to pass that Bucky would not be there to protect Steve when Steve needed him._

_The super soldier decides that he has had enough of this, aimlessly waiting around for a man who doesn't need Bucky to worry about him. He slams the door on his way out, jabbing the elevator button with his finger so hard he almost thinks he broke it and the vessel won't come. Still, the sleek steel circle lights up with a blue glow, and the whirring of the rising elevator can be heard from behind the two chrome doors before him. Bucky turns his head to the side, peering at his disfigured reflection in the glossy sheets of metal. His long hair hangs in his face, dripping like muddy rain, and his eyes are hardened with the sharp knives of all he had experienced and seen when a sharp knife was what he held in his hand. His shoulder muscles tighten as he realizes that when he looks at himself, all he can see is Pierce. Pierce, Dr. Ivchenko and Whitehall. Pierce's sickening smile as he told The Asset he would be the light amongst the darkness of humanity's shadow, the liberator of all evils and that he was so close to protecting the world. Whitehall's unflinching determination in his tasks, pushing him harder and harder to give up himself and bend to his will, a steely determination of concentration that never wavered in his glasslike eyes, cold, unfeeling and inhuman within a scrutinizing gaze. Ivchenko twisting that silver ring on his finger, glinting as he murmurs, “Comply, comply, comply, comply, comply, comply, COMPLY.”_

_Bucky tosses his head up with an anguished snarl, trying to force the images of these vile captors from his mind, but they swim before his gaze unheeded. The more he tries to forget the stronger they appear until they feel all too real, like he is trapped beneath their expectant threats yet again. All that he can see in himself now is their influence, turning him into something like them, and it makes his stomach drop, feeling sick. He brusquely turns away on his heel, one fist clenching into a white knuckled ball, pulse pumping through his palm, and the other ball curls into a humming mass of metal, warning beep alerting him that too much pressure is being applied. He stalks away swiftly from the lift, heading towards the stairs, feet stomping onto the marbled floor in heavy boots. He reaches the stairwell, often only used in a state of emergency by the Tower's members. He throws open the wooden door, practically wrenching off the handle and flies down the concrete steps three at a time. His pulse is rising as he goes into a state of panic, imagery of his captors stirring in his mind and bubbling up unannounced to the surface of his vision._

_These men, forcing him down and goading him on until he complied, brainwashing him so that he listened, believing they were doing what was best for him and for the nation. He is still trapped, still stuck in the labyrinth of lies they spun around him to keep him from rebelling all those years. There is no escape; he has to make it downstairs. Reaching the commons room three floors down, he finds it empty. All the lights are out and an eerie stillness permeates his surroundings. Barton is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he got called out to Jersey to aid Steve and Nat. Banner isn't present either, nor is Stark. Maybe they are off studying scientific advancement together...or maybe Stark has gone home to a mansion with Pepper and Banner has returned to India to meditate his chi, or whatever. Maybe he is left all alone with no one to protect._

_Breath coming in heaving gasps, Bucky falls on his knees. His shoulders shudder as he places his head between his thighs, hands tearing at the roots of his tangled hair, misty eyes leaking against the denim of his jeans. His legs feel numb and distant, like he is no longer a part of them. Standing up would be impossible. His hand shakes so heavily that it begins to feel as though it has drifted apart into all its separate atoms, exploding in a minute Big Bang and dividing apart from him. His face feels cold, his lips like ice upon his skin. His eyelids flutter beneath his hooded lids and he tosses his head from side to side. Enough of this, enough of being afraid. He hates these men, hates how their cruel laughter echoes in his ringing ears and hates how he can feel his chest rise and fall as he barks out a breathless laugh along with them. He is one of them and that will never change. Bucky will just return again like a good lapdog and never see Steve again. Steve doesn't need a beast like him for protection anyways. He's a danger, a terror, a monster. That's all they've ever perceived him to be and so that is what he has become. Lurching up with a cry that is ripped from his throat like a savage thing in pain, he thrashes forward towards the large mirror hung upon the wall. In the dark everything reflected is muted shades of purple and grey, like inky bruises upon flesh. His own eyes are blow wide, pupils consuming the thin rim of shimmering blue. His head feels heavy and his neck cannot support the deadweight._

_He hears his own shallow exhale distantly, mind constantly swooping and dipping as he drops out, not consciously present, only to return moments later. His own face is ghostly white and his teeth clench so hard that his lip begins to bead with droplets of blood, black in the light. He flicks out his tongue, blood flecking across the surface of the mirror. Blood on his face; an image only too familiar to his tired eyes. The fist rears up without warning, and he himself is surprised to hear the disgusting crunch of bone against the synthetic shatter of glass as a large web of deep set cracks blooms across his mirrored image. His fist brushes the back wall behind the frame and he pulls it out quickly, the glass exploding out against him, shards cutting his face to tiny ribbons and sparking like stardust on his wet lashes. The knuckles are split open, warm liquid oozing from his torn skin onto the floor and pooling at his feet amongst the chips of icy glass. Bruises will surely garnish the humps of joints, shaking in agitation, tomorrow, and then dark spots around his gaze swell and grown until everything is hazy. He hits the floor with a resounding thud, finally still._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
